


A Fleet of Ships, Family Fluff, and One-Shots off Tumblr

by RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Family Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Friendship/Love, Multi, Shipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 19,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: A series of small pieces revolving around prompts and pairings, romantic and platonic, along with some miscellaneous Tumblr pieces.(Labeled by pairing for easy searching).





	1. Metadede-Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of these were anon requests based upon spooky-garnet's "weird ass 50 writing prompt list" over on Tumblr. I thought it might be nice to have them all in one place, so my readers on Ao3 as well as my Tumblr followers can read them all without having to search through my blog. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I don't fucking regret it. I never will."

When Dedede entered with a bowl of hot soup, Meta Knight was buried beneath a pile of blankets. “Do I need to kiss ya awake, princess?” Dedede asked.

 

Meta Knight pulled the blankets down. The knight looked awful. His blush-marks were bright red, clearly flushed with fever, and his silver eyes were glassy. The king wolf-whistled. “Lookin’ good, Meta Knight.”

 

Meta Knight didn’t say a word, and that worried Dedede more than anything else. “Nova’s grace,” the Pengu said, plopping onto Meta Knight’s bed. “You’re so sick you forgot how to be an ass!”

 

Swearing usually got a rise out of Meta Knight. Instead of delivering a lecture, the knight seemed to wilt back against his blankets. Alarming. “Alright. What’s wrong with ya?” Dedede asked bluntly. “I ain’t done nothin’ wrong, so there ain’t no reason for you to be givin’ me the silent treatment!”

 

“Do you regret taking me back?”

 

“Of course–” 

 

Meta Knight’s eyes widened with alarm. 

 

“–I don’t fucking regret it! I never will!” Dedede exclaimed, sloshing soup when he gestured to show just how much he would never fucking regret it. “I kinda want you, in case you ain’t figured that out. Why would you think somethin’ like that?”

 

“Because I failed,” Meta Knight said, his gaze suddenly fascinated with his own paws.

 

“So ya got stuck in a mirror. Coulda happened to anyone. You made it back, an’ Dreamland is fine. _You_ –”

 

“And now I’m sick, and you’re having to take care of me,” Meta Knight said. “I’ve been nothing but a burden since I returned to you.”

 

“A burden, huh? That’s real funny, Meta. D’you know why? Cause since you came back, I ain’t _ever_ been so happy. I missed you. I thought ‘bout you all the time, an’ now you’re here. An’ guess what? I hate that you’re sick, but I _like_ takin’ care of you.”

 

“I don’t deserve your compassion, Sire.”

 

Dedede rolled his eyes. “Look; I ain’t sayin’ I agree with that whole _Halberd_  thing, but I messed up, too. I shouldna done some o’ the stuff I did, an’ you were right to call me out on it. I shoulda listened more, so let me make this up to you. Let me give you soup an’ do all the mother-hen stuff that you used to do for me when we were kids,” Dedede said, stroking his right paw down the side of Meta Knight’s face, lingering over the blush-mark.

 

Meta Knight hummed and covered Dedede’s paw with his own. “While I’m flattered, Sire, I must inform you that gentlemen do not swear.”

 

Dedede grinned. “There you are. Now, I brought ya some soup. Let’s try an’ get you back on your feet, eh?”


	2. Metadede--Smile #14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "That is a horrible idea."

Meta Knight was _very good_ with deciphering emotions, especially of those closest to him. He cataloged them all in his head, numbered them, and spattered them with meanings and phrases. So when Dedede approached him with a grin, Meta Knight immediately identified it as Smile #14. This smile was, in Meta Knight’s mind, described as the following:

 

_Quite charming, in the way that it makes my liege’s eyes sparkle. Disarming. Lights up the room. Sincere. Rare. Absolutely terrifying. Dangerous. Harbinger of my doom._

_“_ That is a _horrible_ idea,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede traded his smile for a forlorn pout, which likely would’ve won over anyone who _wasn’t_ Meta Knight. Meta Knight would’ve said that made sense; it wasn’t his fault that his heart was–literally–something like a black hole. Or a pocket dimension. Possibly both. “I ain’t even told ya the idea yet!” Dedede protested, crossing his arms.

 

“You don’t need to tell me.”

 

“ _Mety Knight_ ,” Dedede replied, in what the Pengu probably thought was a seductive tone. Unfortunately, the king’s voice wasn’t nearly as elegant as Meta Knight’s own, so it came out sounding more like Dedede had something stuck in his throat.

 

“ _No_. I’m not embarking on whatever absurd errand you have planned for me. It’s far beneath my station. Besides, I am busy with reorganizing Dreamland’s defenses after–”

 

“But this is a matter of national security, and I reckon you’re the _only_ person I could possibly entrust with such a task,” Dedede replied, gesturing grandly.

 

Dedede’s smile hadn’t indicated ‘national security.’ It indicated that the king was bored, and Meta Knight was about to be the entertainment. He’d end up fetching Dedede some absurd item from the furthermost corner of Pop Star or find himself forced to watch Dedede alphabetize paint swatches. Something banal and irritating. “Yes?” Meta Knight ventured.

 

“Well, I jus’ love you _so much_ , and I know you love me…” Dedede’s glare silenced Meta Knight’s bark of laughter. “…An’ I think you’ll take a likin’ to this one, Mety Knight.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I wanna upgrade my hammer.”

 

That was an odd request. Meta Knight was neither a hammer lord nor a smith. He’d never even wielded the Hammer copy power. “Upgrade it…? Sire, surely, I’m unqualified–”

_“_ I wan’ you to make it shoot _fire_ ,” Dedede said, his eyes shining.

 

The smile returned with a vengeance, and Dedede grasped Meta Knight’s paws. “Kinda sounds like a challenge, don’t it?” Dedede asked. “You like challenges.”

_Harbinger of his doom, indeed._ Meta Knight hadn’t managed to escape his inevitable fate, and Dedede had pitched the idea and worded it as a _challenge_ , knowing Meta Knight wouldn’t back down. “I hate you so much,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede only smiled.


	3. Ribbon/Kirby--More Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I don't fucking regret it. I never will."

The several centuries apart hadn’t given Ribbon much height. Actually, she looked remarkably similar to how she had when she and Kirby had last spoken. The only noticeable difference was that Ribbon’s dresses had grown fuller and were covered with more lace than Kirby had ever seen on any one person. Not that Kirby had seen much lace in his days. 

 

Kirby hadn’t changed much either, aside from growing the signature feathery wings of his kind. They hadn’t grown to their full size yet, however, and instead perched adorably on his back in two white tufts of feathers. His personality was much the same, and he and Ribbon had fallen back into their friendship easily when she arrived with the envoy from Ripple Star.

 

They lay in the grass, gazing at the clouds. “It was good to see you again,” Kirby said. “I’ll miss you.”

 

Ribbon furrowed her brow. “I don’t plan on going back to Ripple Star. I’m staying here.”

 

Kirby’s first thought was _no, you can’t do that._ His second thought was _that’s absurd; Ribbon can do whatever she wants. “_ Really?” Kirby asked. “Why?”

 

He thought he knew, but he didn’t want to risk being wrong, of having misunderstood something. “For you, Kirby,” she replied, laughing. “Didn’t you guess that?”

 

“I just wanted to be sure,” he replied. “You don’t think you’ll regret it later?”

 

“I’ve made my choice,” she said, placing her hand on Kirby’s cheek, “And I–I don’t fucking regret it. I never will.”

 

Kirby laughed. “Don’t let Meta Knight hear you say _fucking_ , though. He’ll give you a lecture about how ladies and gentlemen shouldn’t swear.”

 

Ribbon paused. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he? Do you think he’ll like me? We haven’t talked much. And your other friends…”

 

Kirby smiled. “Oh, Ribbon. They’re all going to love you.”


	4. Ribbon/Kirby--Fairy Swears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Shut the Hell up."

“Kirby, please,” Ribbon said. “You _are_ a goody-two-shoes.”

 

“I am not!” Kirby protested. “I can be…bad. In the cool sense.”

 

Ribbon smirked. “Kirby, you can’t even bring yourself to swear.”

 

“I can, too.”

 

“Prove it.” 

 

“Um. Please, sh-shut the–the–hell up,” Kirby said. He almost expected Meta Knight to dart out from _nowhere_ and launch into a lecture.

 

“Kirby, you said _please_ ,” Ribbon replied, laughing. 

 

Kirby’s face flushed. “Well, it’s not like I have practice. Meta Knight doesn’t like swearing.”

 

“Right, but at most, you’d get a lecture, right? Has he ever even punished you for anything?” Ribbon asked.

 

“Not really,” Kirby replied. “I mean, he’s not really my dad. More like my friend.”

 

“Damn Meta Knight, keeping you away from your teenage rebellion,” Ribbon teased.

 

“I’m beginning to think you’re a bad influence, Ribbon. Where did you pick up words like that anyway?’

 

“Me? A bad influence?” Ribbon asked in mock-offense. “Nonsense. But you know…it’s okay, Kirby. Being a goody-two-shoes.”

 

“You think?”

 

“Of course,” Ribbon replied, kissing Kirby lightly on the forehead. “After all, that’s why I like you.”


	5. Sectonia/(Implied Taranza)--Knights and Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Stop being so fucking pretentious."

“Ah, yes, I believe your lord’s parting words were _stop being so fucking pretentious_ ,” Sectonia said, her tone somewhere between amusement and irritation. 

 

The queen of Floralia tilted her head, her fangs catching the moonlight as she smiled. Meta Knight said nothing and averted his gaze towards the queen’s private gardens, where she’d insisted upon meeting. The queen’s palace and gardens were remarkably beautiful, as was she–allegedly. Meta Knight’s reference for what her kind considered beautiful was woefully limited. 

 

Still, there was a great power about her, something beyond her royal power. She had a presence like the moon, beautiful and luminous, drawing attention. It reminded Meta Knight oddly of Galaxia, though he couldn’t puzzle out why the two were similar. “How are things between the two of you?” Sectonia asked. “We heard you’d attempted an overthrow, yet here you are, once again serving your…wayward liege.”

 

“We’ve come to an understanding,” Meta Knight replied.

 

“You need each other; you mean,” Sectonia said. “I think we all have someone we need in our lives, even if we may not wish to admit it.”

 

“Is that why you keep looking at your butler?” Meta Knight asked.

 

Sectonia laughed, filling the air with the sound of chimes. “Am I so transparent, Sir Knight?” the queen asked, lighting gently on a bench. “I thought I was being clever about it.”

 

“Your court wouldn’t accept it, would they?”

 

Sectonia’s smile grew sad. “It’s true that my people adore me, but my court is another matter. I’ve many suitors vying for my hand, as I’m sure you’ve likely gathered.”

 

“And it’s difficult,” Meta Knight said, “But you know, of course, that you’ll be a better queen if you have someone you love supporting you, as opposed to someone you’ve no attachment to. You’ll have many people working against you, so your consort should be someone you trust implicitly.”

 

“How romantic,” Sectonia said. “That’s a good way of putting it, but of course, enacting it is much more difficult.”

 

Meta Knight nodded in agreement. The queen fell silent for a long moment, before clapping her hands together. “Well, I do insist you enjoy our hospitality for the night, before setting out on your quest. I certainly grant you permission to travel through my kingdom; I’m sure that you have good judgment. If you do need any assistance with this…magic mirror, please, don’t hesitate to call upon my people for aid.”

 

“Of course,” Meta Knight said.

 

Unfortunately, when he needed help, he wouldn’t be in any position to request it. And when Taranza stumbled upon the Dimensional Mirror, his doomed queen wouldn’t recall a quest from so long ago.


	6. Paternal!Meta Knight/Kirby--Fixing the Halberd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I'm here if you need me."

“Why does Meta Knight want me to have the Light power-up to see him?” Kirby asked, following Sailor Dee.

 

“Probably so he doesn’t have to hold the flashlight in his mouth,” Sailor Dee said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Meta Knight spent all his time on the  _Halberd_ walking around with a flashlight in his mouth.

 

The waddle dee passed Kirby a pair of goggles, which he happily perched on top of his head. They headed down to the  _Halberd’_ s lower decks and entered the engine room. It was decently lit, to Kirby’s surprise. “I’ve brought Kirby, Sir,” Sailor Dee said.

 

A flashlight beam bounced across the floor, so Kirby headed towards it. He peered underneath a giant metal engine and found Meta Knight wedged beneath the engine and the wall. No, it certainly wasn’t very light  _there_. Meta Knight lay on his back, the dimensional cape spread beneath him in a pile of silky purple fabric. His armor was absent, replaced with goggles and a flashlight in his mouth, as Sailor Dee had said. At the sight of Kirby, Meta Knight dropped the flashlight into his cape, where it vanished in a swirl of stars and darkness. “If you would be so kind…?”

 

The area was suddenly illuminated, lit by Light’s strange power. “Where’s your armor?” Kirby asked.

 

“In the cape. Metal is a very good conductor.”

 

As if to prove his point, two wires emitted a shower of sparks. Meta Knight didn’t even flinch. “So what did you need, Kirby?”

 

Kirby frowned and picked at his goggles, trying to find the way to word it. To word the strange uneasiness in his stomach, to word how he kept thinking about his friend encased in armor and ready to kill anyone in his path. There was no reason for it. Meta Knight was clearly fine, bare-faced even. But his eyes hadn’t been that uncanny gold without his mask before. “I didn’t thank you for catching me when I was unconscious,” Kirby said. “You probably saved my life. Or at least some of the landscape.”

 

Kirby wasn’t _entirely_ sure whether falling from Pop Star’s upper atmosphere would actually kill him, but it wasn’t something he was eager to test.

 

Meta Knight smiled wryly. “Ah, that. Well, I _do_ need you around. You keep me on my toes, so to speak.”

 

“I thought that was Dedede’s job.”

 

“It’s a two-man job,” Meta Knight replied, shifting over and readjusting his cape. “Here. Join me. Maybe we can get the _Halberd_ ship-shape again. I hear you’re quite the technician these days.”

 

Kirby settled beside the knight, a little too closely if Meta Knight’s puzzled glance was an indication. “I’m just…really glad you’re back,” Kirby said, “To yourself. You know.”

 

“So that’s what it is. You were…concerned about me? What a kind heart you have, to worry about your friends after you, yourself, have been through so much.”

 

“I keep thinking about it, and I don’t think–I don’t think it would’ve bothered me before. I mean, it would’ve, but…not the same way,” Kirby said, fidgeting. “I’m sorry. I know I should move on like you and not waste your time–”

 

“Kirby, you can’t help the way you feel, so don’t ever be ashamed of that. And if it seems like I’ve moved on, it’s because I handle my emotions differently from you. It doesn’t mean my way is better, and you’re certainly not wasting my time. I still have a few hundred-thousand years ahead of me; I can spare a few minutes.”

 

Kirby giggled. “You’re going to be old someday, Meta.”

 

Meta Knight sighed. “Young puffballs these days have no respect for their elders.”

 

Kirby patted Meta Knight’s head as a consoling gesture and was met with a dramatic huff. “So,” Kirby said. “Explain to me what we’re doing.””


	7. Kirfluff--Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "It's not all about you."

Prince Fluff’s shoulders drooped. His body ached and felt limp, but he forced himself to keep going. Patch Land needed him. His people needed him. His parents– _wherever they were they had to be alright surely Yin-Yarn hadn’t hurt him, had he? What would he do, no, they had to be fine_ –

 

“Mr. Important Prince-Guy!”

 

Fluff started at the sound of Kirby’s voice; the pink puff, who trudged wearily behind, had clearly been trying to get Fluff’s attention for a long time. “Sorry about that, Kirby. What did you need?”

 

“Rest–”

 

“I’m fine,” Fluff said briskly. They’d had this conversation already.

 

“It’s not all about you,” Kirby retorted. “I’m exhausted, and I know you are, too. And guess what? You’re no good to anyone if you run yourself ragged and fall over exhausted right at Yin-Yarn’s feet.”

 

Did the sorcerer have feet? Fluff furrowed his brow. “There’s a lot at stake, Kirby,” he said. 

 

“I know, but you need to rest. As do I. It’s going to be okay,” Kirby said. “Look how far we’ve gotten already.”

 

Fluff sighed. Kirby had a point. An  _excellent_ point. But Fluff’s heart ached. Wasn’t every second wasted another second that his beloved people suffered from Yin-Yarn’s monsters? Wasn’t that another second that the rightful king and queen of Patch Land, his noble parents, were–were what? Lost? Under Yin-Yarn’s power? Fluff cringed when he thought of possibly facing his  _parents_. 

 

“Fluff,” Kirby said gently. “Everyone is going to be okay, but they need you to be strong enough to fight for them. You can’t be, if you keep on like this.”

 

Fluff sighed. “I…I’m sorry, Kirby. You were gracious enough to join me in my quest to save Patch Land, and I’ve treated you most disgracefully. Yes, we’ll rest. You’re right.”

 

Kirby smiled and flopped back on Patch Land’s grass. “You don’t need to apologize,” Kirby said. “Come on! Let’s look at the clouds for a bit! Then, we’ll be good and refreshed to go!”

 

Hesitantly, Fluff joined Kirby on the grass. Scarcely five minutes had passed, and Fluff had grown silent. Kirby looked to the side and found the prince fast asleep. “Sweet dreams,” Kirby whispered. “Don’t worry. We’ll save everyone.”


	8. Kirfluff--Prince Charming (More or Less)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Stars and flowers are overrated"
> 
> There's also some implied Meta Knight/King Dedede in this one.

Kirby had expected Prince Fluff to arrive at his house; after all, they’d planned to have a meet-up for weeks. However, he hadn’t expected his prince charming to arrive in such a disheveled state. Fluff’s signature crown was knocked askew, defying gravity simply by remaining on the prince’s head. The prince gasped for breath, and the few brave flowers in Fluff’s paw looked like they’d been subjected to a terrible fate. 

 

“Thank you,” Kirby said, taking the offered bouquet. Was it possible for those flowers to be put out of their misery? 

 

“You’re welcome. So I had a truly amazing evening planned for you,” Fluff said. “It hasn’t exactly gone according to plan, however.” 

 

Kirby gestured for the prince to enter. “So, ah, what happened?” Kirby inquired, throwing the flowers into a cup of water that he’d prepared, on the off-chance that Fluff followed King Dedede’s model of courtship.

 

At least, Kirby _assumed_ that King Dedede’s weekly deliveries of flowers to the _Halberd_ were a sign of courtship. It was just as likely to be an elaborate prank between King Dedede and his favorite knight. Just like the Lollipop Incident. Or maybe when he redid Dreamland’s yearly budget, Meta Knight had simply decided that he really wanted flowers. The _Halberd_ was rather bland colorwise.

 

“Oh. I had a run-in with some bees,” Fluff said. “Huge ones. It seems those flowers were, ah, someone else’s.”

 

Kirby stifled a laugh. “I’m sure you put them in their place, right, Mr. Important Prince?”

 

“With ease,” Fluff assured him. “Unfortunately, the flowers weren’t quite so lucky.”

 

“Alas,” Kirby said, echoing a word he’d picked up from Meta Knight. Dedede had laughed when Meta Knight said it, though Kirby wasn’t sure why.

 

Still, Fluff smiled, so Kirby assumed he’d done something right. “So what else went wrong?” Kirby asked.

 

“Well, there’s rain on the way, so I’m afraid I’ll have to abandon my star-gazing plans,” Fluff said. “I’m good with constellations; you know. It would’ve been very romantic.”

 

Kirby smiled. “It’s alright. Stars are flowers are overrated, anyway.”


	9. Kirfluff--Snowy Fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not part of the prompt list. This one was actually written for @tofukitten on Tumblr because why not?

Snow Fields was at the very bottom of Prince Fluff’s ‘Places I Enjoy’ list. The cold made him stiff and hurt his eyes. The snow was wet and made the prince feel gross, and whenever royal duties sent him to Patch Land’s Snowy Land, Fluff did everything he could to ensure that such visits were very brief and polite. Normally, Fluff had an entourage of servants to at least ease the journey through the frozen country, but now, thanks to Yin-Yarn, he had only a single companion to transverse such a treacherous and loathed place: Kirby.

 

Kirby took the knowledge that they were heading to a frozen wasteland surprisingly well. The moment that Prince Fluff said, ‘Snowy Fields,’ Kirby’s face lit up like St. Knight’s Day had come two months early. “Snowy Fields,” he said. “You mean there’s _snow_ there?”

 

“Obviously,” Fluff said, his tone more bewildered than condescending. “Why else would it be called that?”

 

Kirby shrugged. “Back home, we have a place called Raisin Ruins and another called Onion Ocean. No onions or raisins.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Dreamlanders certainly had odd naming conventions. “There is, indeed, snow,” Fluff assured his companion, as they entered the frigid province.

 

Soon enough, white, powdery snow began to fall. Kirby squeaked in happiness and dashed forward. “Careful!” Fluff called. “There’s ice everywhere!”

 

Kirby didn’t seem to care, however. When the puffball hit a patch of ice, Kirby leapt into the air and spun, landing easily on one foot. He skated backwards and grinned at Fluff. “Don’t you love it?” Kirby asked, waving his paws and trying to catch snowflakes.

 

Fluff never had, but Kirby’s joy was so pure and infectious, that Fluff couldn’t help but smile back at his friend. “Well, I’ve never been especially fond of it, no,” Fluff said, “But this is quite nice.”

 

“Can you skate?” Kirby asked, effortlessly gliding on the ice. “I bet I skate better than you do, Mr. Important Prince Guy.”

 

Fluff huffed in mock-offense. “I very much doubt that, peasant,” Fluff said, taking a step forward. “I, Prince Fluff, have spent my entire life training to be graceful and elegant. I have centuries of experience in dancing; a little ice shall not deter me.”

 

Kirby laughed, his eyes sparkling like sunlight on ice. “Prove it, princeling.”

 

Fluff launched himself onto the ice, spinning as elegantly as Kirby had. Perhaps, the prince reflected, the snow and ice weren’t so bad after all.


	10. Paternal!Dedede/Kirby--Matters of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Who did it?"

The little pink monster, the bane of Dedede’s existence, was in his castle. The king had a good half-dozen insults ready to launch, but when he stepped closer to Kirby, all thoughts of knocking the little demon into another dimension vanished.

 

If Kirby had arrived at Castle Dedede bruised up or with a cut or two, Dedede wouldn’t have worried. Being the local hero undoubtedly led to injuries, and because he’d had Meta Knight as his childhood companion, Dedede knew puffballs were very resilient when it came to physical injuries. Matters of the heart, however, were another matter. And Kirby’s eyes were suspiciously red and bright.

 

Dedede puffed his chest out. He might chase Kirby around with his hammer or jokingly call him pipsqueak, but how _dare_ someone make Kirby cry? Not one for subtlety, Dedede scooped the puffball up and held him at eye-level. “Who did it?” Dedede asked. “Who hurt you?”

 

Kirby’s blush-marks brightened in embarrassment. “You’ll laugh at me,” he said.

 

“I ain’t gonna,” Dedede said, “Not over somethin’ that’s got ya this upset! Who do I need to send my dees after to make you happy? Or d’you wan’ me to get our favoritest pet knight to rough ‘em up?”

 

Kirby smiled sadly and giggled, which had been Dedede’s desired response. “No, you don’t need to do that,” Kirby said. “I just…I felt like I had to make sure everyone was all right.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just…after Yin-Yarn…” Kirby trailed off.

 

It must’ve been horrible–Dedede reflected–for Kirby to have his friends controlled and turned against him. What had the puffball felt when Dedede, who’d been less Kirby’s enemy and more playful rival, turned against him? What had Kirby felt when Meta Knight, ruthless and cold, had offered him no blade and attacked without preamble? “You ain’t s’posed to worry ‘bout us, pipsqueak,” Dedede said. “You’re the young’un that needs lookin’ after. Me an’ Mety’ll be fine. Ain’t neither o’ us made o’ glass.”

 

Even though Dedede, himself, had rushed to the _Halberd_ right after Dreamland was restored to her former glory and insisted that Meta Knight spend the night in the castle. Dedede pulled Kirby into a tight hug, burying the puffball’s face into his plumage. Kirby rubbed his cheek against Dedede’s chest. “I just needed to see you and Meta,” Kirby muttered. “I’ll leave, then.”

 

There was certainly nothing endearing about Kirby. About how he relaxed into Dedede’s hug. Or how he managed to love everybody so much. “Oh, I ain’t lettin’ you leave!” Dedede exclaimed, adopting a scandalized tone. “Did you really think I was gonna let you jus’ waltz in _my castle_ an’ leave without a sleepover?”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Dedede said. “I’m jus’ generous like that.”

 

“Sleepover!” Kirby exclaimed, his voice happy and bright.

 

No, there was certainly nothing endearing about the pink menace. Dedede patted Kirby’s head and allowed himself a small smile. 


	11. Meta Knight/Fairy Queen--Dedede's Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I can't fucking do this anymore."

There were no knights in her kingdom; perhaps, that’s why Sir Meta Knight drew her attention. He looked like night embodied, from his star-white armor to his skin, a deep midnight blue like the sky before sunrise. His wings were a thing of beauty, so powerful and strong, faster and larger than any fairy’s wings could be.

 

She could see why King Dedede adored him so much. Meta Knight was a quiet and calm presence–made all the more apparent by his bombastic lord. They worked well together. Watching them fight together was like watching an intricate dance.

 

She contemplated admitting her affections. She could be strategic about it. She could request that Meta Knight spend some time in her court to further strengthen relations between Ripple Star and Pop Star. Meta Knight wouldn’t argue; he’d be courteous and pleasant company.

 

But…how could she ask him to abandon his first love, his knightly duty to Dreamland? The love he’d gained for his homeland, his king, and his crew? No, it was better to forget her admiration for pretty knights. She had no business in desiring King Dedede’s knight.

 

The Fairy Queen lay in her bed and sighed into the empty night. “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”


	12. Metadede--Loafing Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: What a heart of gold you got there.

“You get five minutes,” Meta Knight said.

 

“Whoa! Five _whole_ minutes out of your hundred-thousand-year lifespan? What a heart of gold you got there,” Dedede said.

 

“Just like my lord.”

 

Dedede sighed. “But cain’t you jus’ not go on patrol this _one_ week? I mean, your men can do it, cain’t they?”

 

“Sire, I can’t simply _skip_ patrol. Yes, my men can do it, but I can’t simply miss because I want to…loaf around the castle.”

 

“It ain’t loafin’! It’s doin’ your royal duty to me!”

 

“My royal duty is to entertain you,” Meta Knight deadpanned.

 

“Yeah, kinda,” Dedede said, a fierce grin crossing his face. 

 

“You’re planning something,” Meta Knight said, taking a wary step back. “No, Sire.”

 

“Have fun on your patrol, Mety Knight,” Dedede said, giving Meta Knight a quick hug and nuzzling the knight’s head. “I’ll see ya when you get back.”

 

The king sauntered away, leaving Meta Knight to stare after him. “Wait! Why were you smiling at me? What are you doing?”

 

“You’ll find out when you get back!” Dedede called loftily over his shoulder. “I’ll try not to set nothin’ on fire!”

 

Meta Knight took a deep breath and counted to ten. This was obviously an attempt to guilt-trip (or frighten) him into staying. But…his men really wouldn’t mind if he wanted to loaf around the castle. Just once.


	13. BFF! Adeleine x Ribbon--Artistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "We're a lot more similar than you think."

Adeleine was the coolest person Ribbon knew. The artist was level-headed and cheerful, and she could paint anything into a work of beauty. Ribbon’s own attempts at art were unholy abominations, splotches of bright colors and lacking all knowledge of shading and lighting.

 

Adeleine was ever supportive of Ribbon’s feeble attempts at making beauty. She complimented Ribbon’s love of the color red– _so many artists were afraid to use it because it was too bold_ –and her painstakingly  (and horribly composed) sketches of Kirby– _circles were notoriously hard to draw, and there was no shame in that._

But Adeleine’s works were gorgeous. She painted everyone and everything with such beauty and accuracy that you’d swear the paintings would come to life. She even managed the translucent quality of Ribbon’s wings, which the fairy–in spite of her best efforts–still hadn’t managed.

 

“I can’t get it,” Ribbon said morosely.

 

Adeleine hummed and adjusted her beret. “Not yet, but you’re getting there. My first paintings weren’t the best either, and that’s alright, Ribbon! Who wants to make their best work when they’re a kid, anyway?”

 

Ribbon smiled, happy for Adeleine’s extra years of wisdom. “Really?” Ribbon asked.

 

“Yes. We’re a lot more similar than you think,” Adeleine said, smiling brightly. “So here’s what you do…”


	14. Taranza x Queen Sectonia--Cloned Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Don't lie, please. I can't take it."

She looked like his queen. She sounded like his queen. She stared hard at him, her eyes intense and judging. Taranza swallowed past the lump in his throat. He knew what this was–what _she_ was–or had a good idea of it. She was like the clone of King Dedede, a product of Haltmann Works. “Who are you?” Taranza asked softly. “Don’t lie, please. I can’t take it.”

 

What else could he do? He would have to speak with King Dedede about it, _plead_ with King Dedede about it, because she could be…

 

No, she couldn’t. She could be. No, he just…wanted her to be. 

 

“I am Queen Sectonia,” she said. “I know you, don’t I? You look familiar.”

 

“I was your…faithful servant,” he said. “You asked me to bring you the Hero of the Lower World, but I brought you the wrong person. We were defeated, and you…”

 

“By the knight,” Sectonia said. “He took my kingdom from me. I’ll destroy him the next time.”

 

She knew _Meta Knight_? They must’ve fought. Why hadn’t the knight said anything? “We can’t hurt him,” Taranza said. “King Dedede is our ally, and he cares very deeply for Sir Meta Knight.”

 

“King Dedede?” Sectonia asked, sounding uncertain. 

 

“Do you remember anything?” Taranza asked. “Do you remember the mirror?”

 

Sectonia frowned. “No,” she said. “I remember the computer and the knight. And coming here. And…I think I’m the queen of this realm, but everything else is unfocused. You look familiar, but I can’t recall your name.”

 

“Taranza,” he offered.

 

“That sounds so familiar.”

 

His heart leapt. Or broke. Taranza’s emotions skated upon some strange, thin line between the two. He wanted her to be Sectonia, before he found that accursed Mirror. Before he–how ever unwittingly–turned his beloved into a monster. It was all his fault. He wanted her back. He wanted to turn back time. He wanted to find the Mirror a second time and shatter it and grind it into dust and lock it away forever, so it couldn’t hurt anyone else.

 

He wanted her to be _his_ Sectonia, his beloved queen, the woman he’d pledged himself to. But she couldn’t be that Sectonia. He couldn’t make her be that, and in the morning, he’d have to face King Dedede and plead for his mercy towards this woman.

 

King Dedede would probably be merciful. He was a good king, ready to offer any forgiveness if it was truly deserved. He was fair. “It is a very long story, my Queen,” Taranza said, with a sigh. “It all began when I found a mirror.”


	15. BFF! Elline x Claycia--Clay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: It's the anniversary today.
> 
> *Note: I suspect I looked at the wrong prompt or something, since this phrase appears nowhere in this. I also wrote them more as simply really good friends in this one because this is the one Kirby game I haven't played, and I've never written these characters before. So I was like...um...? But you're free to read it however you wish.

Elline couldn’t remember when she and Claycia began collaborating on art. It just seemed as something they’d always done, since the dawn of time. She watched as her friend skillfully pulled apart the clay and rolled it into a ball. Claycia’s current project wasn’t a good show of her incredible skills as a master sculptor; Kirby was a very simple subject to make. So were Kirby’s odd-looking friends for that matter.

 

“He’ll like these,” Elline said. “Kirby likes little trinkets; they’re all over his house.”

 

“It’s the least I can do after all the trouble I caused,” Claycia replied.

 

“Dark Crafter, you mean,” Elline replied.

 

Claycia nodded in agreement. “Yes,” she said, though she didn’t sound very convinced when she spoke. “I…I find that it does not lessen my guilt, though. My guilt for hurting them, or for hurting you, Elline.”

 

“I don’t blame you, Claycia. Dark Crafter could’ve possessed anyone; you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Elline said. “I’m just glad you’re back. I missed this.”

 

Elline toyed with a small clay figurine of Bandanna Dee; it was ready and waiting for its companions to be completed. Then, it would go to the kiln. “We’re still friends, though?” Claycia asked.

 

“You still need reassurance of that?”

 

“A little.”

 

Elline smiled. “Best friends forever,” she said, “And ever. And ever. Until the stars all burn out. And even after that.”

 

Claycia laughed. “That might be enough,” she said, setting aside the smiling clay Kirby. 


	16. Nightmare Gets Parental Advice from Ganondorf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Shut the Hell up.
> 
> I jokingly said I wanted to write something with Ganondorf giving Nightmare parenting advice when I was working on one of the posts for "If Kirby Characters Had YouTube" AU (where Meta Knight is Nightmare's semi-adopted son), and @toon-kirby on Tumblr egged me on. So here you are. Total crack.

The pub was a dark, dim place that existed at the crossroads of time and space. Its location was known only to a select few, those who were most attuned to all manners of villainy. The wizard’s eyes narrowed as he entered; his robes flickered and flapped with every step, as if they were alive. The man appeared as if the stars, themselves, had descended and given him shape. His face was sharp and deathly pale. He approached the bar, where his armored companion awaited him. “Ganondorf,” the wizard greeted.

 

Ganondorf nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Nightmare.”

 

They made an odd couple when they were beside one another. Nightmare was spindly like a candlestick, and Ganondorf was hard and thick muscle, a warrior first and a sorcerer second. Ganondorf waved to the bartender, who hurriedly brought two goblets of red wine. “You’re late,” Ganondorf said, nonchalantly downing his in a single gulp. 

 

“It’s Meta.”

 

Ganondorf smirked. “Fatherhood is turning out to be more difficult than you thought, is it?”

 

“I wouldn’t even keep him around if I wasn’t so invested in seeing what my magic is doing to him. I can’t get anything accomplished anymore. He’s such a clingy, selfish thing.”

 

“You brought _that_ on yourself,” Ganondorf said, “When you decided you weren’t going to let the boy leave your little cottage. What did you think would happen?”

 

Nightmare scowled. “How helpful.”

 

Ganondorf laughed and downed Nightmare’s untouched goblet of wine. “You want advice? Fine. I know how to solve this problem. Find a simple couple–goat herders or something–and just drop him in their house. They’ll take good care of him, and you can watch from afar.”

 

“ _Goat herders_ are supposed to raise a child, who can create _tornadoes_ , is sprouting wings–which means flight eventually–and with an affinity for dimensional magic.”

 

“What about a tribe of child-like forest people?” Ganondorf inquired. “Surely, your world has–”

 

“Nothing living in the forest is going to be able to handle a child like that.”

 

“Hm. That’s difficult. What about, I don’t know, dropping him off in a mirror world–”

 

“People go _mad_  when they’re trapped in the Dimensional Mirror!”

 

“A fortress of female warriors in the desert? They could teach Meta to fight _and_ help him develop a respect for women.”

 

Nightmare pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am _not_ dropping Meta off with goat-herders or fairies or–or royalty disguised as pirates–or whatever else you might have in mind.”

 

“Then, give him a hobby. Let him take up some skill. Teach him magic or to be a warrior. Just keep the boy away from any magical swords, and it’ll work out fine.”

 

That wouldn’t be a problem. Galaxia was notoriously fickle about her champions, and she’d never settle for someone like Meta. There was nothing courageous or noble about _that_ soul. “He likes knights,” Nightmare said thoughtfully. “Nova knows why.”

 

“So you ought to encourage his interest,” Ganondorf said. “You’ll get further with him if you treat him kindly and support his endeavors.”

 

“Because you’re known for your benevolence and good will towards children,” Nightmare said. 

 

Ganondorf smiled wistfully. “I envied the Hylians for so long, and when I finally got what was mine…”

 

“It didn’t end well. I’m aware. It never has for you.”

 

“I’m just saying that you need to be careful with that child. Treat him poorly, and of course, he’ll rebel.”

 

Nightmare rolled his eyes. “Shut the hell up. What would you know about children, anyway?”

 

“More than you,” Ganondorf replied, “But we’ll see how it works out with the brat, won’t we?”

 

“I’m sure it’ll be in my favor,” Nightmare said.

 

“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Ganondorf said. “As for me, I think I need a few more drinks. It’s my turn to vent, isn’t it? Let me tell you about Princess Zelda…”


	17. Sibling! Kirby x Bandanna Dee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: What happened while I was away?

Bandanna Dee had never felt more like a burden on his friends. Their mission in Onion Ocean to retrieve part of the _Lor Starcutter_  had resulted in Bandanna Dee being nearly eaten by a vicious eel. Meta Knight had been _enraged_ , and Bandanna Dee probably would’ve witnessed an eel massacre of unprecedented proportions if King Dedede hadn’t insisted that it was better to keep moving. Once they’d arrived safely back on the _Lor_ , Meta Knight had fluttered around, anxiously asking Magolor a half-dozen questions about first aid, while the irritated Halcandran assured him–along with a wide-eyed Kirby and a stone-faced Dedede–that Bandanna Dee was not, in fact, dying. He hadn’t been able to go on the next mission, though. 

 

So he sat on the _Lor_ and waited. Finally, just as the first stars appeared, they returned. “Bandanna Dee!” Kirby cheered.

 

The puffball ran at the waddle dee, obviously going for a hug, before he seemed to remember Bandanna Dee’s injuries and bandages. “Hello, Kirby. What happened while I was away?”

 

Kirby bounced on the tips of his feet and grinned broadly. “We got the ship part! Now we’re off to White Wafers!” The puffball spun around. “Hurry, Meta! I got you a present, Dee!”

 

“A present?”

 

Kirby nodded enthusiastically. “Since you had to stay back and rest! Meta has it!”

 

Meta Knight produced a bag of sparkling orange hard-candy. Kirby grabbed the bag from Meta Knight’s paws and presented it to Bandanna Dee. “For you,” he said. 

 

“Thank you,” Bandanna Dee replied, ripping the bag open. His sweet tooth rivaled Kirby and Meta Knight’s.

 

“You’re welcome,” Kirby said.

 

“Have some,” Bandanna Dee said, his words muffled around a mouthful of delicious orange candy, “If you have time.”

 

Kirby’s face fell. “Well…”

 

“You have time. I think His Majesty and I will take this next one ourselves,” Meta Knight said, “If it’s all the same to you. We haven’t had an adventure together in a while. The two of you can join us in a bit, if you like.”

 

Bandanna Dee recognized it as a hastily constructed excuse, but Kirby didn’t. “Cool!” Kirby exclaimed, happily joining Bandanna Dee on the _Lor’_ s floor. The puffball rubbed his cheek affectionately against Bandanna Dee’s side.

 

Bandanna Dee hummed happily. It was difficult being the least powerful of the group, but…he really had such lovely friends, who cared so much about him. What more could a waddle dee want?


	18. Susie and the Holo-Doomers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Today is the anniversary.

The Holo-Doomers would never be her first choice of companions. They were heartless creatures and unable to comprehend anything more than simple commands and bits of coding. But discussing her…her concerns to any of her collegues was impossible. There was one option, but _he_ would fight. He would argue, and Susie wasn’t in the mood to deal with arguments and wit from a half-broken knight. Meta Knight was impressive, certainly. But also infuriating.

 

The Dedede clone was another option, but he was too unpredictable. Rebellious, even. And imperfect. The stupid creature’s thoughts revolved only around Pinky, the knight, and waddle dees. It kept staring at every waddle dee the company brought in, as if it was searching for something. Or someone.

 

“It’s the anniversary today,” Susie said, petting the head of a Holo-Doomer; it felt staticky and strange, not quite real and very cold. “The anniversary…”

 

The anniversary of her accident with the mother computer. The anniversary of everything going wrong. The Holo-Doomer didn’t sense her sadness. It hovered obediently in place, recognizing her position as its master. “This will work, of course,” she said, trying to force the confidence into her voice. Trying to convince herself that she _would_ get to teach the old man a lesson. 

 

It’d justify all the…all the questionable things she’d done. ~~All the bad things.~~ If it’d just work out in the end. Make mistakes and beg for forgiveness later; that was her philosophy.


	19. (crack) Dedede x Tabuu: When in Doubt, Flirt It out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You are really quite lovely.

King Dedede hadn’t meant to make Meta Knight lose the _Halberd_. Sure, the knight’s crew was fine, and Dedede would provide all the money and resources to restore the battleship to her former glory. Assuming they survived. Tabuu loomed over them, looking strange, fierce, and ethereal. 

 

Kirby, who stood behind Dedede, bounced forward on the tips of his feet. “Hi!” the puffball shouted, waving a paw.

 

Tabuu remained impervious to Kirby’s charms. “Careful,” Meta Knight muttered. “We don’t know what he’s capable of, Kirby.”

 

“Kay,” Kirby said.

 

Dedede took a deep breath and strode forward. The Pengu grinned up at the celestial being, who’d yet to make a move but certainly would. “You know; you’re really quite lovely,” Dedede said. “Any chance you want to abandon this whole world domination thing?”

 

Meta Knight sounded like he was choking. 

 

“Be friends with Kirby!” Kirby exclaimed, apparently entirely on board with the suggestion. 

 

Dedede winked; Tabuu remained unaffected. “I’m perfect for someone that values quality and quantity,” Dedede continued.

 

“Dear Nova, please, stop,” Meta Knight said.

 

Tabuu attacked.


	20. Kirfluff-- To Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Yes.

Prince Fluff puffed out his chest and tilted his head back, effecting a visage of princely elegance. Kirby frowned and tried to create a similar pose. He didn’t _quite_ manage the look as well as Prince Fluff, but to be fair, Fluff’s eyebrows and crown did a lot for him. “Like this?” Kirby asked, trying speak without tilting his head.

 

“Yes. Now you must give a rousing challenge,” Fluff said. “Ahem. Stop, villain! I, Prince Fluff, command it! Cease immediately, or I shall unleash upon you a fury never before witnessed by any living man!”

 

Kirby frowned. “So you can’t simply just…attack them?”

 

“No,” Fluff replied. “You must first issue a challenge and make yourself known. _That_ is proper villain-battling etiquette.”

 

 _Weird._ It did sound kind of like Meta Knight’s challenges, though. And Dedede’s that one time that he decided to copy Meta Knight. “If you say so, Mr. Important Prince Guy,” Kirby said. 

 

“I do say so, Peasant,” Fluff said teasingly.

 

Kirby puffed out his chest. “I, Kirby the Adorable, do challenge–”

 

Fluff snorted in a vain attempt to hide his laughter.

 

“What?”

 

“Kirby the Adorable. You should sound…imposing. Kirby the Heroic. Kirby the Magnificent. Kirby the…Great!”

 

Kirby tilted his head and smiled. “You think I’m heroic, magnificent, and great, huh?”

 

Fluff had a half-dozen snarky replies for that, but in the end, he discarded them all. “Of course you are, Kirby.”


	21. Meta Knight x Galaxia--Romantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. Just a request for Meta Knight and Galaxia.

“But I’m hoping it will speak to me someday if I take good care of it!” Magolor said, enthusiastically waving to the ship’s console.

 

 _A boy and his ship,_ Galaxia murmured. _How romantic_.

 

Galaxia’s words might’ve been sarcastic, but she was, in truth, very interested in this sentient ship. _You don’t know,_ Meta Knight thought. _The_ Lor Starcutter _might be a very charming conversationalist._

_Oh? Would_ you _like to talk to the charming, sentient ship?_ Galaxia teased.

 

_Not as charming as you, of course._

Galaxia hummed. _Do you want me to ask a few questions for you?_ Meta Knight offered.

 

_No. Perhaps, later. But…you feel it, too. That Magolor’s offer of traveling to another dimension is a bit…over-generous._

_Of course. Halcandra isn’t pleasant from what I’ve read. The temperatures are so hot that it’s nearly uninhabitable. I’m sure we’re a match for anything we encounter, but why would anyone want to go there?_

 

 _Indeed._ Galaxia paused, and something inside her sparked with mischief. _You might welcome it after White Wafers, though, dear heart. You’re going to freeze half to death, although I do suppose King Dedede would wrap you up in his robe if you asked._

_I’ll stick with freezing. Thank you._

Galaxia laughed. _It’d be adorable, though._

_Until he refused to let me go, yes._

 

 _Oh, dear. I feel you’re right. I suppose I’ll just have to use my magic to keep you warm,_ she replied, as if she _hadn’t_ planned on doing that all along. 

 

 _How romantic,_ Meta Knight replied. _Thank you, noble Galaxia, for not letting me freeze to death._

As if Meta Knight hadn’t known all along that Galaxia would protect him.


	22. The Fountain of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Meta Knight dreams about the Nightmare Wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a request. Just something I had laying around.

With the Fountain of Dreams, there are no nightmares in Dreamland, but sometimes, Meta Knight longs for them. He knows his father is monster, but he still misses him.

 

The creature in his dreams looked like his father. In a way, it was. It was the very visage of Nightmare, when he’d been much younger and much more human. Few knew that Nightmare was ever anything more than an intergalactic conqueror and a monster, a creature capable of sustaining itself entirely on fear, but Meta Knight was very old. And he’d been at the right place at the right time.

 

Nightmare always appeared in robes that seemed to hold the entire galaxy’s starlight. His skin wasn’t an unnervingly pale, and he didn’t hide his uncanny eyes beneath his glasses. Nightmare’s eyes had once been normal—a sad, sea-blue—but thousands of years of dark magic had changed them. To what, Meta Knight no longer knew.

 

Meta Knight, himself, always appeared younger, too. He caught glimpses of his reflection, and in hindsight, he marveled at how much he looked like Kirby. _Had_ he looked like Kirby, though? Or was he just misremembering how he looked as a child? He never wore armor in those dreams, and his wings were always exposed.

 

Galaxia was a strange absence, and while she undoubtedly saw the dreams, she refrained from commenting. For that, Meta Knight was grateful. He went along with his scattered childhood memories and this strange, subversive Nightmare, who offered frequent praise and affection. It was a strange, sugar-coated reality, where Nightmare really was his father.

 

It was wrong of him to desire such a thing. Meta Knight wanted so badly to hate Nightmare. Surely, he had more reasons than most, didn’t he? He was unable to inhale because of the damage Nightmare’s experiments had caused. No, not damage.

 

 _Mutation_. It was deeper than damage. Meta Knight was a twisted thing of starlight and dark magic, an adorable abomination of terrors.


	23. Metadede-Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by @metaknightmare's lovely fanart on Tumblr

Throughout the kingdom of Dreamland, the Fountain of Dreams kept the nightmares at bay. The Fountain’s sacred waters carried with them sweet, lulling dreams and vanquished shadows and malevolence. Some Dreamlanders lived their entire lives blissfully unaware of how polluted a dream could be. For them, nightmares were but whisperings of evil that always happened _somewhere else._ Never in Dreamland. Even Meta Knight, born of stardust and corrupted by dark magic, who knew the worst that dreams had to offer slept peacefully in Dreamland.

 

But this wasn’t Dreamland.

 

Meta Knight gazed outside the windows of the _Lor_. The sky was awash with stars and a bright full moon. He’d thought seeing the stars might offer some comfort. His mask remained abandoned in his room; there was nothing worse than the dampness and hotness of tears confined to his face by his own armor. It was early in the morning, thankfully, so early that no one would be awake to see his bare face.

 

Crying over nightmares. How pathetic. He'd been forged of nightmares.

 

As Meta Knight continued gazing at the sky, he tried to distract himself by figuring out the _Lor._ Magolor's ship hummed just at the edge of awareness, sharing space with the warm crackling of Galaxia’s sacred fire. It was a comforting sound, edged with magic, and so unlike Meta Knight’s beloved _Halberd_ with her engines and the sounds of her crew. The hum repeated in Meta Knight's head like a half-forgotten lullaby. He couldn't quite grasp whatever subconscious memory the sound was tangled with. Had Nightmare ever coaxed Meta Knight to sleep with lullabies? He might've. That would've been so long ago, back when the wizard still had a heart, however black it might've been.

 

Meta Knight heard the thud of Dedede’s boots against the _Lor_ ’s hull. The knight sighed, and although he didn’t turn around, he inclined his head slightly to acknowledge Dedede’s presence.

 

“Yo, Mety Knighty!”

 

Meta Knight drew a shuddering sigh. This wasn’t how he wanted to be found, without his armor, his eyes red, and his cheeks streaked with tears.

 

“There you are! You ain’t getting up to no mischief, is you?” Dedede asked.

 

From his experience, Meta Knight knew that—if he was up to any mischief—Dedede would happily join in.

 

“No, I just needed to think. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

 

“Why ain’t you sleeping? You didn’t just get up ‘cause you suddenly thought of how to achieve world peace.”

 

“We’re outside Dreamland’s borders.”

 

Dedede clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I thought it might be something like that. Nightmares?”

 

“Go back to bed. Otherwise, you'll be ornery all day.”

 

Dedede heaved a dramatic sigh. “Silly knight, you done forgot again that you ain’t allowed to give me orders.”

 

Dedede’s hand landed on Meta Knight’s shoulder. “Don’t look at me,” Meta Knight said, even as Dedede cupped the side of his face.

 

The king’s gloves were soft and warm on Meta Knight’s cheek. “Why wouldn’t I wanna look at someone as beautiful as you?”

 

But Meta Knight didn’t feel very beautiful. His eyes burned, and his face felt swollen and damp. Dedede appeared in Meta Knight’s peripheral. “I got up, and you were gone. I know you got trouble with nightmares, so I looked for you,” Dedede said. "Poor thing."

 

Nova’s grace, Dedede knew him too well. That was expected, of course. They’d known one another for a long time.

 

“I wish you hadn’t,” Meta Knight replied.

 

“Hey, now,” Dedede murmured. “You don’t mean that.”

 

Meta Knight attempted a withering glare in Dedede’s direction, but even as he did, Meta Knight knew his tears probably ruined the effect.

 

“Which one was it this time?” Dedede asked.

 

“It doesn’t matter. They’re just bad dreams. It’s such a pointless thing to be upset about,” Meta Knight replied.

 

“It ain’t pointless if it’s made you sad,” Dedede said. “For Nova’s sake, there ain’t no shame in getting upset over some dreams. You got real horrors in your past, y’know?”

 

“So do you, and you don’t have nightmares.”

 

“No, ‘cause I handle my problems different from you is all. Don’t mean stuff don’t bother me. I mean, y'know how I was after the whole Dark Matter mess," Dedede said, shuddering. "I'm still kinda uneasy 'round shadows."

 

Dedede wrapped his arms around Meta Knight and coaxed him deeper into the embrace.

 

“If anyone sees us, you’re holding me against my will,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede boomed in laughter. “M’kay, Mety Knighty,” Dedede said, resting his chin on the top of Meta Knight’s head.

 

“I hate crying.”

 

“I know. I hate it when you cry, too, ‘cause it means someone hurt my Mety Knight.”

 

“Not your Meta Knight. And maybe I’m just too weak. I wasted Nova’s wish on becoming stronger. I didn’t realize at the time that it wasn’t my swordsmanship or fighting that needed work. It was my emotions making me weak.”

 

Dedede rubbed his cheek against Meta Knight’s hair. “Maybe _my_ Meta Knight is too hard on himself,” Dedede murmured.

 

“Not your Meta Knight.”

 

“What about my bestest, sweetest knight? My doll-face? My strawberry shortcake?”

 

“ _Strawberry shortcake_?”

 

“Okay, so maybe I’m reaching a bit with that one. Y’gotta give me points for trying?”

 

Meta Knight smiled despite himself. “There’s no point in arguing the point with you, is there?”

 

“Nope!” Dedede declared cheerfully. “I’ll argue all night that you’re the bravest, strongest, bestest knight in the world if I gotta!”

 

Meta Knight sighed and roughly rubbed his eyes and cheeks. “I don’t know if that stubbornness is one of your best traits or your worst.”

 

“It’s the best if it makes you feel just a teensy bit better,” Dedede replied. “Is it working?”

 

Meta Knight smiled. “Just a little.” 

 


	24. Pinguinos--Metadede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anon on Tumblr wanted to know how DLU Meta would react by Dedede taking him to an aquarium for the first time.

The new apartment had three rooms because there were going to be three of them. It’d been fine with just the two of them—just Dedede, Heir of the Stars, and Meta Knight, his long-suffering personal assistant. Now, there were going to be three of them. Bandanna Dee was going to be there, and although Dedede knew he _should_ be supportive, every time he thought of Bandanna Dee, Dedede’s stomach lurched.

 

Bandanna Dee wasn’t the problem; Bandanna Dee was kind and lovely. Perfect roommate and friend material. No, this problem was solely on Dedede.

 

Dedede had become accustomed to being Meta Knight’s only friend, and now, he had to _share_  Meta Knight’s time and affection with Bandanna Dee. And Bandanna Dee needed friends. He _deserved_ friends. No, Bandanna Dee wasn’t the problem; this was only on Dedede. Dedede was jealous, and even the realization that he _shouldn’t_ be jealous, that it was _bad_ to be jealous, couldn’t help smooth over the embarrassing feeling.

 

Bandanna Dee was a good man who deserved good friends, and no friend could possibly be worthier than Meta Knight—dear, witty, beautiful Meta Knight. There was no logical reason for Dedede to be jealous. None at all. But Dedede couldn’t help it. Even as Dedede thought about it, Meta Knight was wiping down the already clean counters of their new apartment. Dedede crossed his arms and watched the way Meta Knight’s shoulder blades moved and the way his ponytail swayed as he scrubbed. All so everything could be extra, super-clean for Bandanna Dee.

 

“We’re going out,” Dedede said.

 

“Out?” Meta Knight asked, clearly not paying attention.

 

Without warning, Dedede hugged Meta Knight from behind and pulled him off the ground. Meta Knight yelped and kicked at the kitchen counter. “Put me down!”

 

“Nope!”

 

Meta Knight could’ve easily called his magic and teleported away, but he usually refrained from using it. Instead, he crouched and tried to sweep Dedede’s foot from beneath him. Dedede laughed and adjusted his stance, using his superior height and weight to keep Meta Knight in place. “Jerk!” Meta Knight exclaimed, trying to pry Dedede’s arms from around his waist. “What’s wrong with you?”

 

“We gonna go out!”

 

“We need to get the apartment ready for Dee!”

 

“So we’ll stay up late tonight, so we can get done when he comes in Monday,” Dedede said. “Sides, y’know he’ll be happy with anything!”

 

“Bandanna Dee is accustomed to living a certain lifestyle—”

 

“I wanna take you to an aquarium,” Dedede said, brightening.

 

“Aquarium?”

 

“Yeah! Ever been?”

 

“No,” Meta Knight replied.

 

“Well, a new one opened downtown! We oughta go—just me and you."

 

"Why?" Meta Knight asked.

 

"Why not? It’ll be fun.”

 

Meta Knight ducked down, managing to slip from Dedede’s grasp. Before Dedede could recover, Meta Knight darted around the other side of the kitchen counter. “If we wait until Monday, Bandanna Dee can go with us,” Meta Knight said.

 

“So we’ll go Monday, too! I wanna take you _today_.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Dedede lunged over the counter, but Meta Knight had already danced back and out of reach. “Makes perfect sense to me, little knight,” Dedede said.

 

“Don’t call me _little_.”

 

“Whatcha gonna do if I do?” Dedede asked. “Hm?”

 

Dedede edged around the counter, aware of Meta Knight making minute shifts in his stance.

 

“C’mon, sugar cookie. Schnookums. Dulcecito.”

 

Meta Knight looked pained, likely at the butchering of his mother tongue, and Dedede took advantage of the distraction to reach for Meta Knight’s arm. Before Dedede could grab him, though, Meta Knight had pulled himself onto the counter and slid across to the other side.

 

“Aquarium,” Dedede said. “With me. Please, Mety Knighty?”

 

“All right.”

 

“Whoo!” Dedede fist-pumped into the air.

 

“There’s a catch.”

 

Dedede gawked in disbelief.

 

“You have to scrub the floors when we get back, my _Lord,_ ” Meta Knight said, tacking on the title with a sort of sadistic glee. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Say the word,” Dedede said, as they waited in line outside the aquarium.

 

“ _Really_? Why can’t you say the word if you love it so much?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“Because I don’t say it as good as you! C’mon, Mety! My dearest, sweetest, most wonderfullest knight!”

 

Meta Knight sighed. “ _Ping_ _üino_.”

 

Dedede nearly lifted Meta Knight off the ground with the force of his hug. Although Meta Knight initially tensed, he relaxed quickly. “Really?” Meta Knight asked. “Nova’s grace, you’re clingy today.”

 

“That’s because I _love_ my little caballerito.”

 

“That’s redundant.”

 

Dedede refused to release Meta Knight even when they finally reached the front of the line. With a scowl, Meta Knight pulled out his wallet, awkwardly maneuvering around his doting lord’s grasp. The aquarium employee’s eyes widened when she read the name on the card.

 

“Thank you!” Dedede declared in a sing-song voice.

 

Dedede let Meta Knight go and skipped into the aquarium with exaggerated enthusiasm. Meta Knight returned the card to his wallet and shook his head in half-hearted dismay.

 

Dedede had, of course, waited inside and ambushed Meta Knight right inside the door. “C’mon,” Dedede said, linking their arms. “We’re gonna see the fish and then the _ping_ _üinos_!”

 

Although Meta Knight carefully hid his amusement, he let Dedede lead him along, weaving through the crowd. “So why the aquarium?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“Because you’re gonna like it,” Dedede said. “It’s gorgeous.”

 

They stopped before a massive tank. Vibrant, iridescent fish in a variety of blues, purples, and reds swayed through the deep, velvety turquoise water. Red, flowering corals and green, leafy seagrasses spread across the bottom of the tank like a cache of faceted jewels. Light flitted through the water and dappled patterns across everything. “Wow,” Meta Knight whispered, transfixed by the colors and movements.

 

“D’you like it?” Dedede asked, his water-blue and hopeful.

 

“I do,” Meta Knight replied. “It’s stunning.”

 

Dedede brightened. “I thought ya might ‘cause you grew up by the ocean an’ all.”

 

“We didn’t have fish like this in the Orange Ocean,” Meta Knight said. “Just the little, brown ones. Most of the time.”

 

“I thought o’ you ‘cause I know ya like bright colors,” Dedede said, “Cause of your hair an’ all.”

 

“You _do realize_ I can have more than one friend, right?”

 

Meta Knight watched Dedede’s reflection in the glass of the tank. Dedede’s jaw dropped, and his efforts to recover were ineffectual at best.

 

“I really do like the fish, Dedede,” Meta Knight said. “It’s very restful watching them.”

 

“What’re you talking about?”

 

“You’ve become extra clingy ever since Bandanna Dee decided to come to university with us,” Meta Knight said. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

 

“Well—”

 

“ _That_ and you told Bandanna Dee you would give me his heart if he did anything to upset me,” Meta Knight said. “Honestly, Dedede.”

 

“He told you that.”

 

“Yes, he told me that,” Meta Knight said, “And _we_ ’ve been talking about you. Even when Bandanna Dee moves in, we’ll still be friends, and we’ll still get to do things together. You don’t need to be so passive-aggressive about it.”

 

“I know it’s silly,” Dedede said, “But I cain’t help but wonder if…”

 

“Quit worrying about it,” Meta Knight said. “We’ll have fun today, but know that—even after today—we’ll still be friends. Best friends. We’ll just have Bandanna Dee there, too. You don’t run out of friendship, Dedede. There isn’t a finite amount of love.”

 

“You got these moments where you seem so much older than you are sometimes,” Dedede said.

 

Meta Knight nodded in acknowledgment of the words. “Come on, Dedede. Let’s go and see your penguins.”

 

 


	25. Constellations--MetaxJecra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just adding some short pieces that are backlogged on my Tumblr. This one was inspired by an anon ask: 
> 
> "When people die they take their place among the stars. The most worthy get a constellation, but most get a single star. Meta Knight spends a lot of time looking at the stars, wondering which are his fallen comrades, his dearest friends. He wonders if he deserves a star, being a creature of darkness and a creation of Nightmare. If he does get one he wonders where it will be. He hopes he and his friends will share the night sky. He wonders if stars gaze at people the way people gaze at stars."

Part of Meta Knight realizes this is silly. Saccharine, he’ll even call it. He has traveled across galaxies, and he knows that the stars are just balls of gases. Clusters of elements and reactions. But some small part of Meta Knight, the bit of him that is  _more_ Star Warrior and  _less_ demon, wants to believe that he can join his friends. That they will welcome him. That they can see him now and understand that he’s trying so, so hard.

 

He reassures himself with Galaxia. Surely, he cannot be  _so_ bad if noble, sacred,  _pure_ Galaxia deems him worthy. Sometimes, Meta Knight envies Galaxia. He has never been pure; he’s always been some strange abomination of stardust and dark magic. Light and darkness forced together. As far as he knows, anyway. Meta Knight never could figure out how he managed to be both a Star Warrior and a demonbeast. It had baffled every Star Warrior he’d ever met. Star Warriors could sense others like them, and they could sense demons. Only Meta Knight read like both.

 

But sometimes it helps. It helps to think of Jecra’s warmth and easy smile. It helps to think of the way Jecra was the first to really  _believe_ in Meta Knight, and even though their first ‘quest’ together was a complete disaster, it still helps to think that when Meta Knight thinks about it, Jecra does, too. Somewhere among the stars. Jecra would surely be a constellation. He was too noble for anything less. Something vast and brilliant. The stars move and shift, and sometimes Meta Knight deigns to think that Jecra’s stars might shift closer to him. Someday. In centuries or several millennia from now.

 

And Garlude would be there. Meta Knight still blames himself for her death, even though–he realizes now–Garlude  _knew_ she would die. Her death had been foretold before she’d ever met the sacred Galaxia, but she hadn’t told Meta Knight. Or Jecra. She’d known they would stop her. 

 

And he and Jecra had grieved for her and watched the stars, and Jecra had lowly whispered to Meta Knight all the star-stories about how it worked. How their kind was born of stars and returned to stars and was reborn again.

 

“ _But I’m not of your kind,”_ Meta Knight had said.

 

And Jecra had leaned over and smudged his thumb over one of Meta Knight’s blush-marks. “ _So are you gonna become darkness, then, little demon?”_ Jecra asked.

 

Meta Knight hadn’t given much thought to it, and he’d shrugged when Jecra asked.

 

“ _That wouldn’t be so bad,”_ Jecra said. “ _I’ll be a star, and you’ll be the darkness around me. And we’ll be together always. And if you aren’t reborn like I am, I’ll know you’re watching over me, and–at least–I’ll get to return to you.”_

And sometimes, Meta Knight thinks about that. About Jecra and Garlude, about Galaxia’s light and his own darkness, about the Star Rod and Nightmare. And  _maybe_ it doesn’t matter if he’s some eldritch star-creature. If he is worth of Jecra’s love, of Garlude’s loyalty, of Galaxia’s fire, surely he is–at least–worthy of being the interstellar medium. If not the stars themselves, the space between them.


	26. Quest Gone Awry--MetaxJecra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone told me they couldn't hear a certain song without thinking of Meta Knight and Jecra. I, the completely-totally-not-legit doctor diagnosed them with some condition that can only be cured through the power of fanfic.

Jecra’s first knightly quest was not going well. His mission to liberate one of Nightmare’s strongholds had resulted in him being chained up in a dark, moldy dungeon, and someone in a dark cloak carrying a whip had just walked in. Well. Wonderful.

 

“So…” Jecra said. “Do you…uh, enjoy your job? I’ll bet you get to spend time with  _lots_ of sweaty, shirtless men.”

 

Was it a good idea to make light of the whipping he was probably about to receive? Definitely not. But Jecra had always dealt with bad situations with bravado and humor. And he probably wouldn’t feel as inclined to make jokes after a few beatings. Hopefully, Garlude would find him before then. She must realize already that something was wrong.

 

Dark Cloak made no reply.

 

“So you aren’t attracted to shirtless, muscular men,” Jecra said. “That’s fine. I don’t judge.”

 

He tested the chains around his wrists. He could  _probably_ pull himself up enough to kick his assailant, although he wasn’t sure how much good that would actually do. 

 

The door burst open again, revealing a knight in shining, silver armor. Jecra let out a sigh of relief. Thank Nova, the GSA had thought quickly! “Cut it a little close, eh, Garlude?” Jecra asked jovially.

 

“What?” the knight asked.

 

Dark Cloak raised his whip, which seemed to draw the knight’s annoyance more than anything. Quick as lightning, the knight struck, severing the whip with his wondrous golden sword and–in the same fluid arc–smashing the pommel of his blade into Dark Cloak’s head. Dark Cloak fell to the ground, clearly unconscious.

 

“This isn’t the right room,” the knight said.

 

Pause.

 

“I  _realize_ it’s dark. It’s a dungeon. It's supposed to be dark!”

 

Jecra was then certain of three things. One, his rescuer was not a warrior queen, with blazing violet eyes; in fact, Jecra wasn’t  _sure_  his rescuer was even a woman. Two, his rescuer seemed to be having a conversation with someone besides Jecra, and there was no one else conscious in the room. And three, it was dark, but Jecra was also pretty sure that his rescuer was absolutely  _adorable._ Like, Jecra would only see the high cheekbones and soft jaw beneath the knight’s mask, but his gold eyes were very lovely. And his long, blue hair was very pretty, especially for Jecra who came from a culture that absolutely  _adored_ long hair.

 

“Well,  _I_ think you’re in the right room, gorgeous,” Jecra said.

 

The knight’s jaw dropped.

 

Oh, was he the easily flustered type? He looked like the easily flustered type. How adorable.

 

“Maybe you ought to free me?” Jecra asked. “I’ll gladly be  _your_ battle buddy. Sir Jecra, by the way. Resident Star Warrior.”

 

“Star Warrior?” the knight asked with apparent interest.

 

“Mmhm. Great swordsman, too,” Jecra added with a wink.

 

The innuendo seemed to go completely over the knight’s head, for when he stepped close, his eyes held confusion and an odd sort of wariness. “Did I just save you from being beaten?” the knight asked.

 

“That you did! This is the part where you free me and carry me away on a white stallion,” Jecra said.

 

“You.  _You_ are a Star Warrior?” the knight asked.

 

“Uh huh. And you are?”

 

“Meta Knight,” he replied. “I’ve been…told that I am also a Star Warrior. Or I once was, rather.”

 

“ _Was_?” Jecra asked.

 

Meta Knight swung his sword at the chains which fell cleanly apart before his blade. “That’s a conversation for another day,” Meta Knight said.

 

“Fair enough,” Jecra replied, as he rubbed his wrists, “New battle buddy!”

 

“You aren't serious enough to be a Star Warrior.”

 

“Nonsense!” Jecra declared. “You have to have a little fun. It’s even better if you have the fun with someone. We’re going to get into all sorts of trouble now!”

 

Meta Knight’s face glowed like an autumn sunset.  _Very_ easily flustered, indeed.

 

 


	27. Dreamweaving--MetaxJecra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this after an anon sent me this: During the war Nightmare finds out that Jecra and MK are dating and immediately decides to break them up. His plan is basically wait for a night where they're sharing a tent and send MK a REALLY bad nightmare so that he wakes up screaming and terrified because "Haha! That silly boyfriend of his will think he's a foolish coward!" But instead Jecra goes into protective coddling boyf mode and is just "shh hey it's ok you're safe I'm here" and they have a nice bonding moment. Nightmare is pissed.

Despite how selfish and cruel his nature, the Nightmare Wizard did legitimately love Meta Knight, who was the eldest of his creations. Well, perhaps,  _experiment_ would be a more accurate term. But whatever Meta Knight was, Nightmare did bear a bit of disturbingly  _human_ affection for the puffball. Nightmare liked Meta Knight’s spunk and tenacity. And of course, Meta Knight’s cunning and sharp wits, both traits that Nightmare himself possessed. And because they were so similar, Nightmare had no doubt that his dearest, wayward son would someday return to him. Meta Knight was young, and it made sense that he might need some time to find himself. Eventually, Meta Knight would come to his senses and accept his role as Nightmare’s second-in-command.

 

But  _Jecra was infuriating._ Nightmare hated the way Jecra’s cheesy and immature jokes made Meta Knight’s eyes soften and his cheeks pinken. And the way Jecra’s casual flirtations made Meta Knight lower his defenses. And it was  _sickening_ how someone as gallant and strong as Meta Knight could be seduced by such a pathetic, childish  _thing_. So Nightmare decided to the best course of action was to break them up. And Nightmare knew Meta Knight very well. 

 

So Nightmare waited for nightfall and twirled a long, slender finger across the threads of his loom. It wasn’t an  _actual_ loom, but a sort of metaphysical loom, and with it, Nightmare could weave the fabric of dreams. As Nightmare moved his finger, up and down, across the loom, shimmering and opalescent thread followed his movements. This was a good nightmare, one that would leave Meta Knight thrashing and whimpering in his bed.

 

Cruel, yes. But it was no less cruel than allowing Meta Knight, his dearest, most precious creation,  _pursue_ this fool. Nightmare knew that Meta Knight was a very brave child, but he’d known Meta Knight for centuries. Jecra hadn’t, and because he hadn’t, Nightmare was confident that the knight’s opinion could be easily swayed. Surely, Jecra wouldn’t still be so  _flirtatious_ after seeing Meta Knight so distraught over a nightmare. The knight didn’t understand nightmares like Nightmare and Meta Knight did.

 

The wizard’s lips curved into a smile that was equal parts malicious and fond. “I’m sorry, dearest. This is for your own good.”

 

* * *

 

Jecra woke slowly, unsure at first what had stirred him from his sleep. Something soft tickled his nose. Jecra rubbed the spot and furrowed his brow at the white, downy feather he found there. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Meta Knight said.

 

Jecra was suddenly wide awake. He’d never heard Meta Knight sound so disheartened before. When Jecra rolled over, Meta Knight sat upright, surrounded by slowly falling feathers. 

 

“Did you lose a fight with your pillow?” Jecra teased, as he edged closer.

 

Meta Knight averted his gaze. His normally bright gold eyes, now a dull gray, looked longingly towards his armor. The tip of Meta Knight’s tongue flicked out; he looked like a cat blepping. Jecra wasn’t sure the significance of the gesture, but Meta Knight’s distress was apparent.

 

“Hey, now,” Jecra said. “No need to be so distraught, blueberry. Did you have a bad dream?”

 

No more blepping. Meta Knight nodded curtly. “I know it’s pathetic. I’m sorry I woke you.”

 

“It’s not pathetic,” Jecra said. “Everyone has nightmares. Heck, I had a nightmare once. It was terrifying! I dreamed I was  _short_.”

 

Meta Knight’s eyes brightened almost imperceptibly. 

 

Jecra grinned. Sometimes, he had a hard time telling when joking was inappropriate, which was unfortunate because Jecra’s instinctive reaction to trauma and uncomfortable situations was to make the other person laugh. But it was so easy with Meta Knight, especially without armor to hide his face.

 

“It was terrible! To get something on top of the fridge, I had to throw you at it!” Jecra exclaimed. “And you  _bounced_  and came back and hit me in the face!”

 

Meta Knight’s eyes flickered blue. “That’s not helping,” Meta Knight said.

 

Jecra sat beside Meta Knight and bumped his shoulder against him. “There’s nothing wrong with being upset,” Jecra said. “You’re still the bravest blueberry I know.”

 

Meta Knight scrunched up his face and hesitantly, awkwardly nestled against Jecra’s side. 

 

“I guess we’ll have to snuggle, though,” Jecra said, feigning a disheartened sigh. “You tore up your pillow, after all. Now we have to share, and I’ll bet that was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

 

Meta Knight’s eyes shined. And in another realm, Nightmare internally screamed.


	28. Meta Knight's Secret Skill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @average-egg sent me this ask on Tumblr: what if instead of chess, meta knight was just really good at Connect Four
> 
> So I wrote the fanfic no one ever asked for or needed.

The Nightmare Wizard was bored. Since his defeat, he’d been cast into a strange, pseudo-dreamworld, and there simply wasn’t much to do in a weightless, starry void. Thus, he settled for his favorite past-time: tormenting the honorable knight of Dreamland.

 

Now, Nightmare would’ve  _preferred_ to torment King Dedede, who shared most of the blame for thwarting the wizard’s plans. But King Dedede, like all of those light-blooded Dreamlanders, was protected by the Star Rod. The knight, however, was a creature of dark magic, which left him vulnerable to Nightmare’s magic.

 

With a shimmer of starlight, Meta Knight appeared. He scowled, his glowing eyes narrowing beneath his mask. With a smirk and a casual flick of his wrist, the Nightmare Wizard made the knight’s armor vanish.

 

Meta Knight’s scowl deepened even as he shifted, clearly uncomfortable with his bare face. 

 

“Dear, little knight. You’re a long way from your master, aren’t you?” Nightmare cooed. “Strange. I’d assumed he kept you on a tight leash.”

 

Whether Meta Knight bristled from the remarks about his appearance or the acknowledgment of his fealty was unclear. Nightmare knew both observations discomfited Meta Knight, but the wizard wasn’t clear on the particulars. Why someone like Meta Knight, Wielder of Galaxia, would take any pleasure in subservience was lost on Nightmare.

 

“How my liege treats me is hardly business of yours,” Meta Knight replied. “What do you want?”

 

“Ah, to the point. I like that about you,” the Nightmare Wizard purred. “See, sweet Meta Knight, you’re going to be my entertainment for a while. It’s so dull here.”

 

Meta Knight growled. He didn’t like endearments either, which was why Nightmare made sure to absolutely  _saturate_ everything he said with them.

 

“Simmer down, little bat. I’m not going to torture you or anything gruesome.”

 

Not in  _this_ dream anyway. Perhaps another.

 

“I just want to play a little game, and as you know from experience, you can’t escape me.”

 

Nightmare materialized an elaborate silver and rose gold chess set. 

 

“I’ll even allow you the first move,” Nightmare said.

 

Meta Knight tilted his head and frowned. “I have no idea how to play chess.”

 

“What?”

 

Meta Knight nodded. “I’m a  _master_ of Connect Four, though.”

 

The wizard almost laughed. He’d overestimated this boy. All along, Nightmare had thought Meta Knight might be a  _little_ more dignified than his lord, but evidently not. What a foolish, silly creature this little knight really was. Trying to put on airs of elegance and class when he was uncultured at  _best._ “Connect Four?” Nightmare scoffed. “Any imbecile can play Connect Four! I’d expected something like that from your airhead liege but from  _you_? You’ve disappointed me, dearest.”

 

Meta Knight reached into his dimensional cape and produced the offending game. “Perhaps you should just admit what you really fear–that I would completely destroy you in a game of Connect Four.”

 

“As if,” Nightmare said. “Don’t be absurd, little one.”

 

“The only ‘absurd’ thing is your insistence that you would prevail.”

 

Nightmare leaned forward. “You have a lot of confidence for being the lapdog of a self-proclaimed king. How about a wager?”

 

“Name it.”

 

“Your freedom. If I win, I get you to do with as I wish,” Nightmare said, mockingly trailing a finger down one of Meta Knight’s blush-marks.

 

The knight’s flinch was nearly imperceptible. “And if  _I_ win, you have to send me pleasant dreams for the next millennium.”

 

Pleasant dreams? Nightmare balked at the thought, but he ultimately decided it didn’t matter. Meta Knight wouldn’t win. It couldn’t be  _that_ hard to win at such a childish, low-brow game.

 

Of course, that was until–hours later–Nightmare, trying desperately to keep his growing frustration at bay, insisted that the wager be settled by determining the best fifty-one out of one-hundred.

 

Why was this Nova-damned boy so good at  _Connect Four_?


	29. Aggretsuko--Metadede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is something I might continue later (because, like, I have this super adorable scene written for how this...er, AU would end but nothing in between...), but for now, it's here! 
> 
> Based on an anon request for: Aggretsuko style business au where Meta Knight is Dedede's personal accountant. I feel like working for Dedede would be both chill and insanely frustrating. Like, he wouldn't be super hard on him and he would trust him to do his job, but he would just make the dumbest financial decisions in spite of MK's advice and he would bug him to do stupid things like getting him snacks from the store or being required to hang out after work.

Dedede Novatrix was a diplomat whose blunt demeanor gained him an equal number of friends and enemies, but he had a good heart. He was the sort of man who people always knew where they stood with. All in all, he was a decent fellow who liked the frequent travel—usually from Whispy’s Woods to Mekkai and with the occasional detour into Patch Land—required of a diplomat. Dedede’s one fatal flaw, however, was his finances. He’d come from money and had a nice penchant as being the ambassador to Patch Land, so there was never a worry of him _bankrupting_ himself. However, his frivolous spending made taxes, expenditure reports, and business reimbursements a _nightmare_. Dedede really needed an accountant.

 

Dedede had a few interviews for an accountant on Monday, but it was Friday night. Instead of looking for an accountant or even over the resumes he’d received, Dedede had stopped at a nice bar in Celestial Valley— _Himmlisches Tal_ to the locals—near the border between Patch Land and a region of the Dreamland called Traumwald. Dedede had seated himself at the bar, his suit jacket thrown onto the back of his chair and the cuffs of his button-down rolled up past his elbows. As Dedede toyed with a tankard of ale, he watched the stage nearby.

 

This was a karaoke bar, and Dedede had half a mind to go up there and belt out a couple of songs. He was no grand singer, but he wasn’t terrible. Maybe after he finished his ale.

 

A man walked onto the stage and began to sing, and Dedede paused mid-drink at the first note. That man had the most beautiful, beguiling voice he’d ever heard. Death metal wasn’t really Dedede’s cup of tea, but he was pretty sure he’d listen to _this_ man read the phonebook.

 

Dedede spun around on his barstool. Warm felspar-brown skin, sapphire-blue hair, and bright gold eyes. He wasn’t the sort of man Dedede would ever call _handsome_ , but he was pretty. No, _striking_. That was the word.

 

Striking with a voice worthy of a god.

 

* * *

 

Meta Knight had silenced his cellphone. Then, he’d turned off the vibrating text alert. Then, he’d turned off everything except his alarms. Because bless his heart, Meta Knight’s little brother had yet to take a hint and kept sending a steady stream of encouraging text messages, and the last thing Meta Knight wanted was for his phone to go off during his interview with Dedede Novatrix, ambassador to Patch Land.

 

Meta Knight sat in the waiting room and clasped his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The worst that would happen was that Dedede wouldn’t like him, and Meta Knight would return to his retail job, folding shirts and bowing to customer demands, while he searched for something else.

 

The office door opened, and Dedede himself peeked out. Meta Knight had studied Dedede’s photos online, and he looked…well, much like his photos. This was unusual, as in Meta Knight’s experience, politicians often didn’t look _quite_ as attractive in person as they did in photos.

 

Dedede also wore a _very_ red suit. Meta Knight wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or worried over Dedede’s boldness.

 

Dedede’s blue eyes gave Meta Knight a quick once-over. “You’re Meta Knight?”

 

“Yes?”

 

Dedede retreated back into his office and returned with a box, which he promptly dropped at Meta Knight’s feet.

 

Meta Knight stared at the giant, disorganized box overflowing with receipts.

 

“From the past couple a business trips!” Dedede declared cheerfully. “It’s my…uh, job training! Get ‘em in order, and you’ve got the job!”

 

 

 


	30. Birthday--Marxolor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon sent me this message: I was looking through those “if Kirby characters had YouTube” posts and the b-day one for Marx just cracked me up. “He just bums around Maglors on his bday” like I just imagine him kicking the door down and screaming that it’s his bday and Maglor is like “oh ok wanna go out and do something” and Marx is just “no I’m just gonna hang at your place” while taking up as much room as he can on Maglor’s couch and eating all his food.
> 
> And I didn't really need to write a fanfic, but I did anyway. It's set in the DLU AU and is pretty accurate with how this pair will actually function in the fic.

Magolor rolled over and groaned. Because of his eight o’clock calculus class, it wasn’t often he got to sleep in, and while a small part of him knew he ought to get up and be productive, another part of him wanted to just sink further into his blankets and enjoy the warmth. His eyelids fluttered open. Marx lay on his side beside him, his cheek propped up on one hand. He crunched Dorito’s, letting red spice fall onto Magolor’s recently cleaned sheets. And everything was fine. Magolor let his eyes slowly drift closed.

 

Wait.

 

Magolor’s eyes snapped open. “Did you break into my apartment?” he asked.

 

Marx’s smile revealed unusually sharp teeth and vaguely resembled that if some sort of horror movie serial killer. That was when Magolor saw the mostly empty bag of spicy nacho Dorito’s. Fearing for the status of his kitchen, Magolor tossed the blankets aside and over Marx, who emitted a muffled shriek of protest.

 

“Can’t you knock on the door like a normal person?” Magolor asked.

 

Crunching.

 

“And as much as I love my friends, I will give you the shock of your life if you don’t stop making a mess in my bed,” Magolor said.

 

Marx’s head emerged from the blankets. “But Magolor,  _friends shouldn’t fight_!” Marx protested, grinning viciously.

 

Magolor bit the inside of his cheek. “Strange how you remember me saying  _that_ but decided against remembering my lecture about not breaking into my apartment,” Magolor deadpanned.

 

“But look! I brought you flowers,” Marx said, producing the obviously just-magicked bouquet of roses. “That’s very generous of me considering it’s  _my_ birthday.”

 

As if Magolor wouldn’t  _know_ when it was his friend’s birthday. He knew when all his friends’ birthdays were-–even Meta Knight’s, despite the fact that they hadn’t been on friendly terms in years. “So what do you want to do for your birthday?” Magolor asked, taking the roses.

 

Dear Nova, Marx  _really_ needed to learn how to create some duller thorns; his were absurdly sharp. 

 

“No,” Marx said, sprawling himself all over Magolor’s bed. “I figure I’ll just lay around here all day. Get me some more Dorito’s, bitch.”

 

“Friends don’t call friends  _bitches_ ,” Magolor said. 

 

Marx snorted. “Friends are the  _only_ people you should be calling that,” he said, waving the empty chip bag. “I’m still in need of Dorito’s, Mags.”

 

“You’re in need to some manners,” Magolor replied, but he still snatched the bag and stormed into his kitchen with the intention of getting Marx more food.

 

“Thanks, Maggie!” Marx yelled.

 

Magolor rolled his eyes and after throwing the bag into the trashcan, opened up the breadbox sitting on his kitchen counter. It was the one place he had known Marx wouldn’t look, and inside, there was a small, round cake. It wasn’t often that Magolor really had the opportunity to be an exceptionally good friend, but when he did get those opportunities, he always rose to the occasion. 

 

 


	31. Marxolor--He's Boring Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon sent me this: 
> 
> Maglor: When I ask him over for dinner I'm not asking him to stay for two months! I don't even have a guest room so is he just gonna sleep on the couch? And what am I supposed to do when breakfast comes around and he sleeps in two hours late!? Then what happens MARX!? In case your forgot this was about you! (This is a Game Grumps quote aside from 'MARX' and it immediately made me think of how you write Marx and Maglor in DLU)
> 
> So I wrote this, which may eventually get worked into DLU in some fashion.

Magolor stared at his coffee and wondered if the convenience store had accidentally put decaf in the caffeinated pot. He stifled a yawn and stared at the book before him; the words blurred before his eyes. Magolor was seriously considering abandoning the project and sleeping in one of the study rooms instead. With a sigh, Magolor gave up and decided to go home instead. This was all Marx’s fault.

 

As much as Magolor liked Marx (Nova knew why), they seriously needed to have another talk about personal space. During the night, Marx had sauntered in, eaten most of the food in Magolor’s kitchen, and then crashed in Magolor’s bed. This would’ve been fine…except that Magolor was a very selfish sleeper. He’d began with half the bed and slowly shoved Magolor further and further throughout the night.

 

Magolor woke when he struck the carpet face-first. Sleepily, Magolor had stumbled to the sofa and slept there; this was easier than attempting to wake Marx who slept like a dead man. The alarm roused Magolor minutes after he’d managed to fall asleep again. He’d groaned and forced himself up. He’d offered Marx’s shoulder a shake to see if he would wake; he hadn’t.

 

So half-awake and dead inside, Magolor had trudged to his engineering class. And here he was. Two hours later. Still barely awake. And if this annoying guy on the sidewalk didn’t start walking more quickly, Magolor was going to set the man’s clearly expensive jacket on fire. Said guy turned around, and it took Magolor an embarrassing amount of time to piece everything together. “Rough morning?” Meta Knight asked.

 

Magolor had been too tired to muster up Dreamlandic, so he’d opted for Halcandran. “Marx won’t stop trying to sleep in my bed with me.”

 

Magolor glanced at Meta Knight to see his reaction; after all, they weren’t enemies, but they weren’t quite friends either. But Magolor knew of Meta Knight’s disdain for physical affection and expected some sympathy. Instead, Meta Knight looked…maybe sheepish. For just a split second. “Well, I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t want Marx in my bed either,” Meta Knight said.

 

All of Magolor’s frustration towards Marx suddenly transferred to Meta Knight. “I don’t mind him in my bed. It’s just that he keeps pushing me out,” Magolor said.

 

“Then, either buy a bigger bed or make him sleep on the sofa,” Meta Knight replied, pausing by the crosswalk. “Nice talk. I have to go, though.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I have a coffee date,” Meta Knight replied, his face brightening. “I don’t want to be late.”

 

For Nova’s sake, Meta Knight and Dedede  _lived_ together. They’d probably seen each other that morning already, and Meta Knight looked like he’d just inherited a mass fortune just because he was going on a coffee date. How disgustingly saccharine.

 

Magolor trudged along until he reached his apartment. Once inside, he headed straight past Marx, who’d found Magolor’s chocolate stash and was happily polishing it off. “What’s up, Mags?” Marx asked.

 

“Tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

 

“Huh, I slept fine,” Marx replied, grinning shamelessly.

 

The little monster  _knew_ what he’d done.

 

“How was your morning?” Marx asked. 

 

“Fine. I ran into Meta Knight. He and Dedede are a thing now,” Magolor said. 

 

He collapsed face-first onto his bed and contemplated trying to sleep with his face drowning in his pillow. 

 

“Yeah?” Marx asked. “What’s that like?”

 

“They’re so disgustingly sweet. He’s made Meta really boring.”

 

“Dear Nova!” Marx exclaimed, as if being boring was an unforgivable offense.

 

And for Marx, it probably was.

 

Magolor rolled onto his back and furrowed his brow as Marx climbed in bed beside him. Marx held an unwrapped Reese’s cup between his fingers. Before Marx could eat it, Magolor leaned forward and took a massive bite out of it.

 

“Hey!”

 

“I bought it,” Magolor pointed out around a mouthful of chocolate. 

 

“Friends share, Mags!”

 

Magolor grimaced. Why did everyone always have to use his friendship speeches against him?

 

Marx finished the half-eaten Reese’s either way. “Well, I’m good for a cat nap,” Marx said, throwing the bag of candy onto the nightstand and curling up against Magolor’s side. 

 

“Next paycheck, I’m going to buy a bigger bed,” Magolor said, “Since you seem determined to just force your way in here every other day.”

 

“Come on, Mags! You know I bring  _all_ the excitement to your otherwise dull life. Never a boring day with me around!”

 

That was certainly true. Magolor sighed and threw the blankets over both of them. “Meta was going to meet Dedede for a coffee-date at ten in the morning,” Magolor said drowsily. “It’s so…average.”

 

“Gross,” Marx agreed. “Don’t worry, Mags. I promise we’re never going to be like  _that_.”

 

Magolor smirked. He didn’t doubt it for a second.


	32. Brent Knight vs. Mesmeros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @SociallyUnacceptableOrb wrote this fabulous [fanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338340/chapters/35588643) about the Kirby cast reading a crappy romance novel, which includes the vampire Mesmeros. So we got to talking about romance novels and Kirby characters. Then, this was said:
> 
> dlu!kirby secretly writes a fanfic where mesmeros snaps brent knight's neck. NOBODY MUST KNOW IT WAS HIM.
> 
> And I went WAY further than I should have with that sentence.
> 
> (If you click on the links for the 'fandoms' in the story, it links you to each of our fanfics.)

This was...not Meta Knight’s best idea, but after suffering through the best-selling novel  _Forbidden Fantasy_ , a historical romance novel wherein the hero Brent Knight spent his time courting Mary Novatrix, the secret daughter of the goddess Nova and Dedede’s  _actual_ many-times great-grandfather, and insulting Bikaia, the greatest king Dreamland had ever known. Meta Knight was really filled with the insatiable urge to make Brent Knight eat steel, but since he couldn’t murder a fictional character, Meta Knight was seeking catharsis in another way. Searching for fanfiction wherein Brent Knight  _died_. Surely, there must be someone in the world whose hatred for Brent Knight also burned with the white-hot intensity of a million dying galaxies.

 

[Suck It, Brent Knight](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Kirby%20-%20All%20Media%20Types/works) by [Hoshi no Kaabii]()

  * Fandoms: [Hard Heart, Shining Star](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338340), [Forbidden Fantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054524/chapters/34900529)


  * Summary: Brent Knight meets an unwelcome end at the hands of the vampire lord Mesmeros. Super sadness.


  * Tags: Spitefic, Crossover, Vampires, AU where Bikaia is an actual decent person, so i guess that means historical au?, i don’t like Brent



 

Meta Knight brightened. Finally, he’d found it. This Hoshi no Kaabii writer was clearly a man of refined literary tastes. “ _Yes_ ,” Meta Knight said, clicking the link without hesitation.

 

**Prince Bikaia of Dreamland kept quiet as he and his party trudged through the forest. He focused on Brent’s shoes. The knight moved before him, and Bikaia had once tripped over the knight’s boots from following too closely. Brent had snapped at him, and really, that should’ve been Bikaia’s first warning that Brent was an unsuitable traveling companion. It really hadn’t been Bikaia’s fault; because he was a prince, he was used to people following _him_. Not the other way around. But since then, Brent had become increasingly violent. Brent had misinterpreted Bikaia’s gentlemanly behavior towards a barmaid as flirtation and slammed him into a wall. He insulted Bikaia at every turn, became frustrated at the smallest offense, and sometimes struck him in the name of toughening him up. And Bikaia doubted Mary, who doted after Brent, would help him.**

**“Brent,” Mary said, “I am dreadfully tired. Don’t you think we should rest?”  
**

**“Perhaps in a little while,” Brent replied.  
**

**“It’s becoming quickly dark,” Bikaia said.  
**

**“Shut-up and cease whining, you brat!” Brent snapped.  
**

While the author hadn’t managed to capture the original tone of  _Forbidden Fantasy_ , Meta Knight had to admit that the characterization of Brent Knight was fairly good.

 

 _I can’t wait for him to die,_ Galaxia said.

 

“Agreed,” Meta Knight said.

 

**Eventually, the group arrived at an abandoned castle. Bikaia thought it would be wise to inspect the castle before declaring it their resting place for the night, but he didn’t voice his thoughts for fear of drawing Brent’s ire. They settled in a bedroom with an elegantly crafted bed and a massive fireplace. There was no dust which meant either the castle was enchanted or someone lived there.**

**Bikaia was so tired he didn’t even complain when Brent told him to sleep by the room’s entrance, presumably so he’d know if someone _did_ come during the night. Brent and Mary curled up together on the bed. It made sense that Mary, being a young lady would be given the bed, but Bikaia could think of no logical reason for Brent to also need the bed. **

**Brent said it was to protect Mary, which made perfect sense. That’s why the _prince of Dreamland_ was sleeping alone by the door and very far from the fireplace. **

**Bikaia really did try sleeping, but he was very cold. He drifted between sleep and wondering if he’d rather flee into the dark forests around him. At least, the forests wouldn’t insult him. The prince’s eyelids fluttered. Dark, seductive music drifted through the air, and Bikaia blinked rapidly.**

**He was unsure if he’d imagined it. Bikaia thought of waking Brent, but the prince really didn’t want to be scolded. Instead, Bikaia wrapped his cloak around himself and padded down the stairs. He’d seen a parlor by the entrance, and parlors usually contained musical instruments. Maybe an animal had sneaked in and stumbled upon one. That seemed to be the case, for when Bikaia entered the parlor, there was no one at the piano.**

**Bikaia sighed and rubbed his face. Whatever it was must’ve fled. The prince sank onto the piano bench and gazed longingly at the piano. It’d been _so long_ since he’d been able to play a piano. **

**“I wouldn’t mind a nice nocturne,” a dark, seductive voice said.  
**

Meta Knight wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but this man already reminded him of his own father. That was...an odd feeling to have.

 

**Bikaia twisted around. A man, entirely nude, lounged on an elegant loveseat. In one hand, he held a small, glass goblet filled with a deep, red liquid. “I was hoping for a beautiful maiden,” the man purred.**

**Bikaia averted his eyes and held out his cloak. “Surely, you’d prefer to wear clothing, Sir,” he said. “It is wintertime, and I’m certain you’re cold.”**

**Unfortunately, years of princely etiquette hadn’t prepared him for dealing with nude men.**

**“Dear child, I was under the impression that I may dress however I wish in my own castle.”  
**

**Bikaia’s breath caught in his throat. “I apologize for my trespass, my Lord,” Bikaia said.**

_Can you skip ahead to the part where Brent Knight dies?_ Galaxia asked.

 

“I’m...kind of intrigued by this, though,” Meta Knight said.

 

 _That’s why we read_ Forbidden Fantasy  _in the first place_ , Galaxia muttered.  _Your curiosity is going to be the death of my sanity._

**Bikaia heard movement and turned his face towards his own shoulder, desperate not to see the man’s nudity any longer. “My friends and I shall leave immediately,” Bikaia said. “Please, accept my sincerest apologies. We are but weary travelers, and we meant no disrespect. I can pay you for your hospitality.”**

**Bikaia flinched as a cold finger lighted upon the hollow of his throat. It was followed by a sharp spark, Bikaia’s powers Copying whatever gifts this man held. “How strange that you keep speaking as if you hold the blame for invading my castle,” the man said. “You are the one who thought spending the night here unwise.”**

**Bikaia’s stomach lurched; his teeth didn’t seem to all fit in his mouth anymore. He smelled blood. The man snatched Bikaia’s cloak away and wrapped it around himself. “I would be a poor host if I made my guests uncomfortable,” the man said. “I am Mesmeros, the lord of this castle. What an honor to stand in the presence of royalty.”**

**When Bikaia dared look at the man’s face, he found it ethereally beautiful. Snow-pale with aristocratic features and deep, piercing eyes. And the more Bikaia looked, the more he felt a strange, deep hunger inside him.**

Meta Knight’s jaw dropped. He winced and skimmed ahead to confirm that Bikaia wasn’t about to...engage in certain adult activities. Fortunately, he didn’t. It seemed that, instead, Bikaia had developed mind-reading powers and had seen that Mesmeros was a deadly vampire who thought Bikaia’s throat looked very delicious. Thank Nova for small mercies.

 

**But there was something else. Curiosity flickered in Mesmeros’s eyes. “But you’re not quite human, are you, my dear?” he asked. “How fascinating.”**

**And because Brent couldn’t survive without being at such a climatic scene, he immediately showed up. The knight drew his sword, but rather than pointing it at the vampire, began screaming at Bikaia for having the audacity to disturb his beauty sleep.**

**Mesmeros cleared his throat.**

**“Can you wait?” Brent asked. “I am scolding this selfish, arrogant brat! He’s proven himself incapable of even the smallest task!”  
**

**Bikaia clenched his fists and took the scolding as he had many others. If he’d learned anything from his royal upbringing, it was how to be diplomatic towards people he didn’t like.**

**The vampire’s dark eyes flickered to Bikaia. “Do you know, my dear prince, that there’s one thing I simply can _not_ abide?”**

**Bikaia caught Mesmeros’s intentions, but it was too late. With blinding speed, Mesmeros lunged forward and tore out Brent’s throat.**

Meta Knight smirked as he reveled in the suffering of his most hated fictional character. He looked quite like his father at the moment, although no one would have dared tell him.

 

 _Perfect,_ Galaxia said.  _Leave a comment_.

 

Meta Knight nodded, left his comment, and closed his laptop.

 

* * *

 

Kirby rested his cheek in the palm of his hand and idly scrolled through his emails. He perked up when he realized he’d gotten a comment on his very first fanfiction story. Normally, Kirby didn’t write fanfiction, but after skimming  _Forbidden Fantasy_ and reading about how awful the depiction of the noble King Bikaia, Kirby’s own self in a previous life, Kirby had been unable to resist doing  _something._ Eagerly, he opened the email.

 

[AO3] Comment on Suck It Brent Knight

> **Meta**  left the following comment on  _Suck It Brent Knight_ :
> 
> Thank you, dear writer. I do not ordinarily read fanfiction, but I really enjoyed your piece wherein the insufferable Brent Knight meets his untimely end at the fangs of a vampire.

 

Kirby threw the phone on his bed and clapped his hands over his mouth. Meta Knight must  _never_ know.  _Never._ Feverishly, he typed out the most innocent, I-Am-Totally-Not-Your-Half-Brother-Kirby comment he could.

 

[AO3]  **Hoshi no Kaabii** replied to your comment on  _Suck It Brent Knight:_

> **Hoshi no Kaabii** responded:
> 
> THANK YOU. THAT IS SO NICE. IS META YOUR REAL NAME? THAT’S SUPER UNIQUE JUST LIKE MY NAME WHICH IS TOTALLY NOT AVERAGE IN ANY WAY. XOXO.


	33. DaroachxDark Meta Knight--Out-Flirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written because of this ask: 
> 
> god dark interacting with daroach unrestrained would either be beautiful, a disaster, or both. i'm just imagining daroach using his flirting to try to distract from stealing some mirror world artifact and instead of getting meta who just tells him to get out, getting dark who i could see calling his bluff and flirting right back
> 
> This is...sort of vaguely set in the DLU AU (because this conversation stems from their interactions in DLU), but it can be read as being more game-based also.

Daroach carefully moved, so he blocked the magical wand he’d been trying to steal. A man stood across from him. Daroach found him very attractive, regal even. He wore black trousers and a black cutaway coat over a red brocade vest, and while his attire was very flattered, the man looked, overall, like he’d stepped from a period film. Most surprisingly, though, was that Daroach recognized the man’s face; despite the missing eye and scarring, his red eyes, and blond hair, this man looked exactly like Meta Knight.

 

“What are you doing?” not-Meta Knight asked, tilting his head slightly.

 

The man radiated power, so much that Daroach was reconsidering whether he could win in a fight. Instead, Daroach grinned and whistled between his teeth. “I’m afraid I lost my way, but now, I’m beginning to think being lost wasn’t such a bad fate,” Daroach said, letting his eyes  _very obviously_ wander over the other man. “Maybe a very lucky fate.”

 

It was meant as a distraction, while Daroach reached behind him and tried to stow the wand inside his coat pocket.

 

“Ah, yes. People inadvertently wander through the Dimensional Mirror, a mystical relic which presently rests in the most secure and impenetrable location in Dreamland, all the time. Welcome. I am Dark, king of this realm.”

 

 _Really_? “The Scarlet Magician, although you may call me Daroach, Your Majesty. I’ve always wanted to meet a king.”

 

Dark strode closer. “Really?” he asked.

 

Daroach caught the insinuating tone in Dark’s voice and began to wonder if he really  _was_ a king. In all his years of thievery, Daroach had never had anyone flirt  _back_ to him.

 

Not to be outdone, Daroach smiled. “I’ve always had this fantasy; you see. About meeting a king.”

 

Daroach had managed to stow the magic wand inside his back pocket.

 

Dark vanished, and Daroach started when the man reappeared. Evidently, personal space was a foreign concept to Dark, who now stood so closely that Daroach could feel the other man’s breath on his neck. It became apparent, too, that the man had fangs, something which Daroach was more fascinated than repulsed by.

 

“I thought you were going to tell me your fantasy,” Dark purred. “Did I ruin the mood?”

 

What a strange, strange man. “Not at all,” Daroach answered, tracing a gloved finger over Dark’s jawline. “I was only admiring your features. You’re much more striking up close.”

 

Dark chuckled and pulled Daroach’s hat off. “Oh, this is very lovely,” Dark said, teasingly running his fingers through Daroach’s long, silver hair.

 

Daroach felt a hand creep behind him. “Thank you. I don’t suppose, being a king, you’d like a silver fox to join your service? I can see you’re rather intrigued with my behind, Your Majesty,” Daroach said, grasping Dark’s wrist and spying the ring on the king’s finger. “And you, a married man! My, my.”

 

“My husband doesn’t mind,” Dark replied. “On the contrary, it’s not uncommon for a man of my station to be a…little  _insatiable_. You’ll have to forgive me for not following those lovely Dreamlandic conventions.”

 

Daroach reached beneath Dark’s sleeve and massaged the underside of the king’s wrist. “Why don’t we heat things up?” Daroach asked, reaching for the Triple-Star with his free hand.

 

Daroach unleashed a burst of lightning. Dark’s grip on Daroach’s wrist tightened, and although Dark’s face twisted in pain and fury, he didn’t seem terribly harmed by the attack. “Pain really does nothing to deter me,” Dark said. “I’ve a good tolerance for it. Terrible childhoods do that to you.”

 

Daroach released Dark’s wrist and leaped over the table behind him, keeping it between the king and himself. “I would be delighted to discuss it with you, but–”

 

The world suddenly shifted into strange blankness. Daroach couldn’t feel his magic; he couldn’t feel Dark or the Triple-Star. Slowly, he raised his hand, a silver handcuff dangling from his wrist.

 

Dark strode behind Daroach and patting his shoulder. “Those were forged with dragon’s fire,” Dark said cheerfully. “Among other things, they suppress magical abilities and the ability to use magical objects. Normally, we hang thieves who steal from the Crown, although I like you, so I might be willing to let you die by my blade. That’s a more painful death but more dignified. But you’re from  _Dreamland_. I fear if I kill a Dreamlander, it’ll create some exhausting scandal.”

 

“Politics must be so tiring for someone with your eccentricity,” Daroach said, the beginnings of a plan twisting in his mind.

 

Dark stood before Daroach and put his hands against the thief’s chest. “It is  _so_ difficult trying to accommodate Dreamland’s  _impossible_ standards of purity and honor,” Dark said.

 

“Like being shoved in a box,” Daroach said sympathetically.

 

“Indeed.”

 

Without warning, Daroach went in for a kiss. Surprise flashed in Dark’s face, but he returned the gesture without hesitation. Daroach had to admire the man’s commitment to trying to out-flirt him, but of course, Daroach hadn’t really been expecting a kiss.

 

The click of the other handcuff on Dark’s wrist was  _very_ loud. Daroach smirked, while Dark drew back and slowly looked at their handcuffed wrists.

 

“They say variety is the spice of life,” Daroach said, grinning victoriously.

 

Dark shook with barely contained laughter. “There’s one problem. I haven’t the faintest idea which key belongs to these cuffs.”

 

“You collect magical handcuffs?” Daroach asked.

 

“My late father did.”

 

Dark retrieved Daroach’s hat, which had been left forgotten on the floor, and placed it back on the thief’s head. 

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a very  _dashing_ man?” Daroach asked.

 

Dark’s lips quirked into a smile. “Many times,” he said. “I believe the proper response is ‘it takes one to know one?’ How would you feel about having a luncheon?”

 

Hmm. Daroach smiled. Clearly, Dark was a man who was willing to play a  _very_ long game, but no one had ever bested Daroach. And Dark wouldn’t either.

 

“Sounds delightful.” 


	34. Pleasant Dreams--One-Sided Customer Service/Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of based on DLU but not with any real references to it. For THAT person whether they want it or not. :D
> 
> For a Nightmare fic, it's...surprisingly sappy.

Customer Service straightened his tie and brushed over his pumpkin spice button down once more, ridding the shirt of invisible wrinkles. He yawned and resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, an action which would ruin his carefully-coiffed locks. And he always liked to look his best for his Friday night dinners with Nightmare Nocturne, CEO of the Holy Nightmare Corporation. Customer Service stared at the mirror as if he could somehow make the dark, bloated circles beneath his eyes disappear. With a sigh, Customer Service left the men’s bathroom and returned to his table.

 

Nightmare had yet to make an appearance, possibly because Customer Service had arrived half an hour early. He only ever arrived early when it had something to do with Nightmare. Possibly because Customer Service had some...wholly unprofessional feelings towards his boss, and this combined with Customer Service’s eagerness to please upper management, had made him something of an over-achiever.

 

Finally, Nightmare arrived. Nightmare wasn’t a conventionally attractive man, or so Customer Service had once thought. The more Customer Service looked at his boss, the more he started to find Nightmare’s unconventionally sharp features incredibly attractive. It helped that Nightmare dressed well. And that he’d shown himself capable of singlehandedly fending off a couple of cosmic horrors. Which was...hot. Not that Customer Service would ever admit that aloud.

 

Nightmare strode to the table and took the seat. As he did, he smiled; his unnaturally sharp canines caught the lighting well. Customer Service had never asked, but those teeth legitimately might have been able to rip out a throat. They were also part of the reason people found Nightmare so intimidating, although his powerful magic and reputation also probably had a good deal to do with it. 

 

“Ah, you’ve already ordered a red,” Nightmare said, delicately taking his wine glass and inhaling the wine. “Cabernet?”

 

Customer Service smugly cited the name and vintage, which was met with Nightmare’s approving nod.

 

“I thought you’d like it,” Customer Service replied.

 

“Mm. I hope you ordered the entire bottle,” Nightmare sat, taking a sip.

 

Of course, he had.

 

“Difficult day, Sir?” Customer Service asked.

 

Nightmare made a sort of disgruntled expression with his face. At work, Nightmare was very cold and composed, but he made an exception for their weekly dinners. Customer Service found that flattering, although he, of course, kept such feelings to himself. Nightmare's eyes were covered, as always, by his glasses. His eyes were sensitive to light, and Customer Service had only seen his eyes once or twice. They were a cold grey with a lot of shine. Like diamonds.

 

“Raising a child with magical powers is proving to be more difficult than I had anticipated,” Nightmare replied, “And Meta Knight’s morning sitter is proving herself to be impressively incompetent. The evening sitter was running ten minutes late, and rather than waiting, she _left_ my two-year-old child unattended in his room! When the evening sitter arrived, Meta Knight had flown on top of the ceiling fan and was just sitting there. The poor boy could have fallen! Or tried to fly and broken something! He’s not nearly skilled enough to be flying unsupervised.”

 

Customer Service, who found Meta Knight to be a terrifying demon-child, nodded sympathetically.

 

“So I’m searching for another sitter,” Nightmare continued, “One who knows better than to abandon the _magically-powered toddler._ Meta Knight can’t quite control his powers yet, but he doesn’t have many accidents. It’s just that when he gets bored, he plays with his powers, so he needs sitters who can keep him entertained. Just—I cannot _believe_ the nerve of that sitter. I should make sure she _never_ works in childcare again.”

 

“Shall I stage some interviews?” Customer Service asked.

 

Nightmare waved a dismissive hand. “No, you’ve already too much to do. This is something I must attend to myself. Besides, you look exhausted already,” Nightmare said.

 

So Nightmare _had_ noticed the circles under his eyes. “It’s nothing,” Customer Service replied. “I’ve just had difficulty sleeping lately.”

 

Nightmare paused and tilted his head. “Do you know the cause?”

 

“No. This just happens sometimes. It’ll pass.”

 

“You should have said something,” Nightmare replied, his lips curving into a smile. “Dreams are my specialty.”

 

“I...I didn’t know if it was my place to ask for something like that.”

 

Bright silver stars of dream magic popped and twinkled around Nightmare’s fingertips. There was a faint pop, and Customer Service blinked.

 

“There,” Nightmare said.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t mention it. I need my right-hand man to be in good shape, after all.”

 

Customer Service’s insides fluttered a bit embarrassingly at the phrase “right-hand man.”

 

“Now, I know it’s not good manners to talk shop at the table,” Nightmare said, “But corporate espionage does make me _so_ excited.”

 

Customer Service took a sip of wine and smiled. “Did you see that Haltmann Works’ stock value fell five points today?”

 

“I imagine it will fall even more once the insider trading scandal comes to light,” Nightmare replied mischievously.

 

“Insider trading?”

 

“Indeed. If Max Haltmann’s stockholders are going to try and cheat, they should cover their tracks.”

 

“I can assume that’s some of Computer Virus’s work?”

 

“I’m making him earn his keep,” Nightmare replied smugly. “I’ve been sitting on this information for months.”

 

“And I take it you have proof of this?”

 

“Of course, I do,” Nightmare replied. “Their stock is about to plummet, so a few...untrustworthy people will buy it up. Then, an anonymous source will release all the evidence I have. It won’t ruin him, of course, but I’ll settle for an inconvenience.”

 

“I love how devious you are,” Customer Service replied, leaning forward, “And I wondered if you might consider a couple more corporate spies. I’ve found some acceptable candidates.”

 

“Have you?” Nightmare asked.

 

“Indeed—”

 

The waitress arrived for their orders.

 

“The usual,” Nightmare replied.

 

Customer Service didn’t know if Nightmare really wanted his usual or if he was just too invested in the conversation to bother looking at the menu. It was a miracle the man even ordered anything. Customer Service knew that his boss had an unhealthy tendency to overwork himself and forget to eat, and more than once, Customer Service had tried to tactfully force food on his employer. Nightmare was thin enough that a strong gust of wind just might blow him away.

 

Strange. Because Nightmare had a good half-dozen alarms on his phone for when his child was supposed to eat. Maybe that was why Meta Knight was such a pudgy baby.

 

Whether he wanted it or not, Nightmare ate his usual—cedar plant salmon and rice. All the while, he and Customer Service plotted corporate espionage, mostly against Haltmann Works but occasionally against the Dreamland monarchy. And Customer Service couldn’t help but notice how _animated_ Nightmare became when talking about such things. It was endearing and fascinating, like watching a wild cat batting around dandelions.

 

And after the night ended, Customer Service went to bed and slept better than he had in months.

 

 


	35. The Squeaks Adopt Kirby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this ask: "caught up on thick as thieves and first awwww to all of this. second may i get you to consider. since in canon kirby does/can get help from the squeaks during mass attack. kirby gets temporarily adopted after getting electrocuted within a tenth of his life"

At sixteen, Meta Knight was a wild boy who had the habit of getting into quite a bit of trouble, which–of course–meant that Daroach, Dreamland’s most infamous thief, was very proud of him. And when Daroach and the rest of his Squeaks returned to the hideout after a long night’s work, one look at Meta Knight’s face revealed that the boy had done something very,  _very_ bad.

 

“Welcome home,” Meta Knight said. “How was your night? Shall I take your coat?”

 

“Oh,  _boy_ ,” Spinni muttered, sounding delighted. “Your boy’s been causing mischief, boss.”

 

“Do I need to take care of someone for you, Meta Knight?” Storo asked, cracking his knuckles.

 

“No,” Meta Knight replied. “Am I not allowed to greet my dear father?”

 

Daroach narrowed his eyes and handed off his coat. Meta Knight only ever called him  _father_ when he wanted something. “Oh, of  _course_ , my boy,” Daroach said, feigning obliviousness. 

 

“At least, he’s not stuck in a mirror this time,” Doc whispered.

 

“Your hat?” Meta Knight asked.

 

Daroach swept his hat from his hand and dropped it directly onto Meta Knight’s newly dark hair. “See? My son has  _such_ elegant manners,” Daroach said.

 

“Well, he clearly didn’t get them from his father,” Spinni joked.

 

Daroach gasped and looked as if his honor had been irredeemably besmirched. Meta Knight went to put Daroach’s clothing away, but the thief caught his elbow and pulled him back. Meta Knight flinched and pulled back his arm. He was hurt; Daroach realized that very quickly. “Daroach–” Meta Knight began.

 

Daroach took Meta Knight’s chin in his gloved hand and tipped it up. Their eyes, both gold, met like sunlight and starlight. “Now, what have you done?” Daroach asked lowly.

 

“Don’t be angry.”

 

Daroach arched an eyebrow and considered the answer. Whenever Meta Knight had done something wrong, his usual response was anger or defiance. Indignation. This quiet, nearly fearful demureness was unsettling.

 

“Whatever it is, we can fix it,” Daroach said, his voice serious. 

 

“I brought home a boy.”

 

Daroach roared in laughter. “Is that all? Where is he hiding? Your loft? Introduce us, you tease! Goddess, our Meta Knight has finally discovered romance!”

 

“Not that sort of boy,” Meta Knight said quietly. “An eight-year-old boy.”

 

“Oh, God, it’s another Meta Knight,” Spinni said, although his usual joke didn’t carry its usual snark.

 

“I’ll work extra hard to feed him,” Meta Knight promised. “You won’t even notice he’s here. I’ve never asked you to give me anything before, and while I realize–”

 

Daroach held his hand up. “Show me, Meta Knight.”

 

After hanging Daroach’s coat and hat up in their usual place, Meta Knight climbed into the loft where he slept. Daroach followed with the rest of the Squeaks. It was a crowded place with all of them there. A small lantern lit the space, although neither Daroach nor Meta Knight needed a lantern to see in darkness. In Meta Knight’s bed, there slept, as he’d said, a small child. A street urchin like Meta Knight had once been. Downy, blond hair. Pale skin. The child’s malnourishment was clear in his thin face. Daroach hooked a finger beneath the blanket and pulled it down, revealing bandages.

 

“Burns,” Meta Knight said. “I rescued him from the wizard Necrodeus.”

 

Daroach’s eyes hardened. “And why were you in the sewers exactly?” he asked, citing the wizard’s hideout.

 

“I heard screaming and investigated.”

 

“And you thought you’d just rush in and be the dauntless, dashing savior of the day! Very gallant!” Daroach exclaimed.

 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Meta Knight replied.

 

Daroach hummed. “Did he hurt you?”

 

“No, I–”

 

Daroach pushed up the sleeve of Meta Knight’s coat, and although Meta Knight tried to pull away, Daroach had already seen the burns.

 

“How badly did he hurt you?” Daroach asked.

 

“It’s just my arm,” Meta Knight said.

 

“I’ll mix something to help it heal,” Doc said. “I can make something for this boy, too.”

 

“And if you need any additional ingredients, Doc, let me know,” Spinni said. “I’ll fetch them for you.”

 

“So what’s the boy’s name?” Storo asked. “Do we know?”

 

“Kirby Stellarum,” Meta Knight replied. “I gave him a sleeping potion, but it should wear off soon. I thought he might need rest.”

 

“So do you,” Daroach said, squeezing Meta Knight’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. Besides, twenty-eight isn’t too old to raise another child. Maybe this one will be a little better behaved.”

 

“I wouldn’t bet on it, old man,” Meta Knight replied.

 

Daroach grinned. “Make sure Doc fixes you up. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Daroach shrugged. “It’s one of the many benefits of being my child,” he said cavalierly.

 

The other benefit of being Daroach’s child was that Meta Knight would never again have to worry about Necrodeus.  _No one_ hurt Daroach’s family and lived to boast about it.


	36. If Dark Meta Was in the Kirby Anime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this ask: "alright i read the ask about if dark were in the anime and things it got me to consider: tiff adn dark bickering incessantly because as far as maturity goes they're polar opposites and i'm imagining tiff would be not that fond of the tricksterisms"

No amount of pleas would convince Lord Ebrum and Lady Like that she, Tiffany Eburm, did  _not_ need a babysitter. Her parents insisted that–no matter how mature–she was still a child and needed an adult to look out for her, Tuff, and Kirby, while the couple was away for negotiations with Dreamland’s northern neighbor, Snowland. But even a babysitter wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been… _that man_.

 

Dark bounded into the room with a broad smile that might’ve been charming if he hadn’t had a mouthful of sharp fangs. “ _Hello_ , children!” he exclaimed.

 

Through some sort of magic gone awry, Dark–evidently Sir Meta Knight from another dimension–had been trapped in Dreamland, and thus far, no one had been able to figure out how to send the man back. 

 

Tiff crossed her arms. “I can _not_ believe you’re going to babysit  _us_.”

 

“Well, I  _am_ an adult, young whippersnapper!” Dark declared. “You know; back in  _my_ day, children respected their elders!”

 

“Well, maybe if you acted like an adult, I’d respect you more,” Tiff said. 

 

“But you show  _Meta Knight_ respect,” Dark pouted, “And I  _am_ Meta Knight.”

 

“Dark!” Kirby shouted happily and wrapped his arms around Dark’s legs in a tight hug.

 

Tiff sighed. Both Kirby and Tuff absolutely  _loved_ Dark, probably because he was always happy to get into trouble and support all their outlandish schemes. Most recently, Dark had taken to playing pranks on Escargoon, and while Tiff agreed that the king’s advisor deserved some measure of misfortune, Dark pursued tormenting Escargoon like it was a full-time job. What was  _more_ baffling is that Dark seemed to also be head over heels in love with Dedede and melted into a puddle if Dedede so much as called his name.

 

“Dark! I want to make something explode!” Tuff exclaimed, running into the room.

 

“No!” Tiff exclaimed. 

 

But Dark’s face brightened like he’d just been given his weight in candy. “Did I ever tell you the story about how I singlehandedly destroyed my ex-boyfriend’s battleship after he betrayed me and broke my heart?”

 

Yes. About fifty times. And despite Dark’s aplomb, he had yet to get through the story without dissolving into a puddle of tears.

 

“Yes!” Tuff replied. “Come on, Dark! Please!”

 

“Well, alright–”

 

“No, that isn’t safe!” Tiff protested.

 

“But it isn’t going to be a  _huge_ explosion. Just a little one.” Dark grinned. “In Escargoon’s bedroom. Glitter will be involved. Lots and lots of glitter.”

 

“Wicked!” Tuff exclaimed, doubtlessly doubly excited by the thought of annoying Escargoon.

 

“You can’t,” Tiff said.

 

“Oh,  _I’m sorry,”_ Dark said, “But who’s the adult,  _Theophania_?”

 

“It’s Tiffany, and I’ll tell Meta Knight if you do this.”

 

Dark smirked and mockingly patted Tiff’s hair. “It’s so cute that you think I’m afraid of Mety Knighty. Come on, boys! To the craft store!”

 

Kirby and Tuff shouted excitedly, and Tiff groaned. Why couldn’t her parents have asked Meta Knight to watch them? Or a rock, even. A rock would do a better job at adulting than this trainwreck.


	37. Pricing--Metadede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this ask: "(DLU) Dedede asks Meta if he's free Friday night and Meta responds "No I'm expensive sorry" because he read that online once and thought it was funny. How does Dedede respond?"

The smell of olive oil and fried fish drifted into Meta Knight’s nostrils. He sat perched on the kitchen counter, watching as Dedede did things that–if Meta Knight tried them–would’ve resulted in fire. And smoke alarms. And the hatred of the other one-hundred-fifty people living in their dorm. “Hey, Meta, you free Saturday?” Dedede asked.

 

“No, I’m expensive. Sorry,” Meta Knight replied.

 

During his research on “how to flirt with your boyfriend,” Meta Knight had read joke online and had thought it was pretty good.

 

Dedede laughed. “I don’t suppose yer free any other day uh the week, are ya?”

 

“Nope,” Meta Knight replied, popping the syllable on the ‘p.’

 

Dedede abandoned his cooking, something else that–if Meta Knight had done it–would’ve resulted in flames and drawn the ire of the one-hundred-fifty other people living in their dorm.

 

“So what’s yer price, schnookums?” Dedede asked.

 

Meta Knight raised his head an smirked as Dedede sauntered close to him. “You couldn’t possibly afford me,” Meta Knight replied. “Sorry, my Lord.”

 

Dedede heaved a melodramatic sigh. Abruptly, he turned around and winked. “Good thing I know your weakness, sugar cakes,” Dedede replied, smirking.

 

“Oh? And what is that?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“I know you cain’t cook to save your life,” Dedede said, “So if you don’t wanna live off cheap take-out for the rest of the week…”

 

Meta Knight’s jaw nearly dropped, and with a victorious grin, Dedede patted his cheek. 

 

“That isn’t fair,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede shrugged. “Sucks to be you, then.”

 

Sometimes, Meta Knight thought Dedede knew him entirely too well.


End file.
